


don't look down ('cause you are royalty)

by CommanderBear



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Mortal, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Author doesn't know anything about NYC, Author doesn't know anything about skateboarding, Bullying, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Not Beta Read, Princess Diaries AU, Sally is black fight me on this, canon pairings - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23437855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderBear/pseuds/CommanderBear
Summary: I want to seeYou lift your chin a little higherOpen your eyes a little widerSpeak your mind a little louder'Cause you are royalty~~~Percy Jackson is an average tenth grader. He does chores, hangs out at the skatepark, deals with bullies, and tackles impossible English homework. When a long-lost half-brother suddenly enters his life, that all changes. Add in papparazzi and a real life crown and Percy Jackson is not so average anymore.
Comments: 34
Kudos: 135





	1. Saturday

It was warm for the end of April and the skatepark was packed. Percy Jackson knelt at the top of the halfpipe retying one of his laces while his best friend, Grover Underwood, fiddled with the Go Pro on Percy’s helmet.

Grover wore faded, baggy jeans and a red hoodie. A rasta cap stuck out of his back pocket. His rucksack was peppered with badges saying things like “Stop the bovine massacre!”, “Vegetarians have right to eat special!”, and “Join the green side!”.

Percy and Grover had been best friends since the second grade. Nancy Bobofit – the terror of their elementary school – had had Grover backed into a corner on the playground and was bearing down on him with a dodgeball when Percy had seized her by her frizzy orange pigtails and yanked her away. Nancy had cried enough for both boys to miss recess for the next two days.

Grover had been on crutches for as long as Percy had known him. He wasn't too clear on the specifics, just that Grover had a muscular disease in his legs that made it hard to walk but that had never stopped him from making it to the front of the line at enchilada day in the cafeteria.

“Let’s do this,” said Grover, slapping the top of Percy’s helmet lightly.

Percy went to the lip of the halfpipe. “You ready?”

Grover aimed his handheld camera at him with and flashed a thumbs up. “Ready, man.”

Percy flashed a grin at the camera and flashed a ‘hang loose’ before launching himself down the pipe. “Let’s go!”

He ripped down the ramp and up the other side. He bent his knees, ready to pop the blunt fakie he had been working on when–

“Ha! Check out Jackson.”

The board skidded flew up from under Percy’s feet. He landed hard on the asphalt and rolled down the slope. His board clattered to the ground beside him and skidded a few feet away.

“Did the Go Pro get that?” Grover called. He was still filming with his phone.

“Yeah,” Percy groaned, pushing himself up, “yeah I think we got it.”

The guy who had called Percy’s name was laughing. It was Matt Sloan, in the middle of a knot of mean-looking guys.

They were all in the same grade as Percy and Grover at Goode High School and generally spent his time making Percy’s life a waking nightmare. Sloan himself wasn’t big or strong, but he acted like he was. He had black eyes like an angry dog and shaggy black hair. One of his front teeth was chipped from the time he’d taken his daddy’s Porsche for a joyride and run into a PLEASE SLOW DOWN FOR CHILDREN sign. Even though his clothes were expensive, he always dressed sloppily like he wanted to show off how much he didn’t care about his family’s money.

“Might want to take it back to the sidewalk, Jackson,” he sneered. “Don’t think your mom can afford a medical bill.”

“Shut up, Sloan.”

Sloan just sneered at him. “Why do you even bother, Jackson? You might actually have friends if you weren’t always being stupid with a scholarship kid.”

Percy balled his fists. “Who cares if Grover has a scholarship? Just means he’s smarter than you, but I guess that isn’t very hard. I’ve met rocks smarter than you.”

Sloan and his friends stopped laughing. A few of them puffed their chests out and cracked knuckles.

“Percy…” Grover warned.

Sloan jerked his chin at the guys around him. “These guys are moving to Goode next year,” he bragged, like that was supposed to be intimidating. “I bet they can pay the tuition too, unlike your cripple friend. How do _you_ afford it again, Jackson? Is your mommy still sleeping with that guy from the appliance store?”

Percy saw red. “Take that back, Sloan,” he growled.

Sloan wasn’t listening. He and his friends were too busy laughing.

“Percy!”

Percy turned. His mom, Sally, was standing by the chainlink fence. She was dressed in her work uniform—a starry blue skirt and a red-and-white striped blouse she wore to sell candy at the Sweet on America kiosk in Grand Central. Her long, curly brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

“Better go,” Sloan taunted, “mommy’s calling.”

Percy wanted to sink his fist right into Sloan’s smug face but his mom was still hovering by the fence. _What is she_ doing _here?_ She wasn’t usually home from work until dinner and he hadn’t been at the park that long.

Grover was already packing up their snacks and camera equipment into his backpack and gathering his crutches.

“Go on, dude,” he said. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later.”

Percy traded the helmet with the Go Pro for the backpack Grover tossed down to him. Then he kicked his board up into his hands. He still had to pass Sloan and his friends who kept on snickering at him on his way out of the pipe.

“You’re such a loser, Jackson,” one of them jeered as he walked by.

“Good thing I’m gonna put you out of your misery on Monday.”

“You are so dead.”

Percy ignored them and doggedly kept on his path to the fence.

“Hey mom,” he said. “Everything okay? Did Gabe come into the store again?”

“No, no, nothing about Gabe.” She smiled at him but it looked forced. “How was your day, honey?”

“Sloan’s being a jerk as usual but it was fine. What’re you doing here? I thought I was getting myself home.”

Sally laughed a little, some of the tension releasing from her shoulders, as they started walking down the street away from the park. “Glad to see you too.”

“You know what I mean. What’s up? Seriously, you’re being kind of… weird.”

“Sorry, Percy.” She sighed. “We just… unexpectedly have family in town for a little.”

Percy frowned at her. Since when did they have an extended family? His dad wasn’t in the picture, and Percy’s mom was an only child and her parents had passed away when she was his age.

“What family?”

“On your father’s side.”

Percy stopped dead in the middle of the intersection. It took Sally a moment to realize that she had left him a few paces behind.

“Percy!”

Sally grabbed him by the hand and pulled him out of the street.

“What do you mean on dad’s side? Since when do they talk to us?”

Sally sighed and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, the other hand on her hip. Percy had seen her do the very same more times than he could count while she cooked in the kitchen. It was as familiar a mannerism as her twirling her hair up into a messy little bun.

Percy knew his parents had never lived together. Unlike a bunch of other kids he knew, he didn’t sit around wishing they would get back together, Percy was perfectly happy with the arrangement they had. He and his Mom were just fine on their own and his Dad’s family never bothered them. Percy had never even met his dad, maybe it was easier that way – you can’t miss what you’ve never had.

“Come on,” said Sally, “we need to keep walking or we’ll be late. I’ll explain everything.”

She guided him down the road, passed convenience stores and apartment buildings.

“You know I was very young when I met your father. It was Christmas and I was lonely and he was older and handsome and… I won’t bore you with the details. Anyway. He knew I was pregnant, but we decided to go our separate ways. We’ve emailed a little, you know he pays for your school, but I never thought that he or his family would ever want more contact than that. But now… I suppose they’ve changed their minds.”

“Why now? Why would they even want to talk to us? They’ve never cared about us before.”

Sally pursed her lips. “We’re nearly there.”

An honest to goodness limo was waiting at the end of the curb. Sally made a beeline for it. Percy wanted to tap his mom on the shoulder (Hey, mom, this isn’t a taxi) but the driver stepped out of the front seat and held the back door open for them.

“This is us,” said Sally.

Percy gave her a bewildered look but clambered into the back seat ahead of her. The seats were upholstered in shiny cream leather. A TV and a mini-fridge were set into one of the corners, and a partition separated the back seats from the driver.

Across from Percy sat a petite young woman with long dark hair pulled back from her face and brown eyes that twinkled cheerfully. She was pale, and her face had that timeless look to it that made it difficult to guess her age –she could have been sixteen or thirty. She wore a pale pink flowing shirt under a black blazer and tucked into a matching black pencil skirt. In her lap she held a little white tablet computer and a leather purse sat on the floor at her high-heeled clad feet. Her face seemed to light up when she saw Percy.

“Good afternoon, Mr Jackson!” She was very perky, like a television presenter who had had one too many espressos.

“Um,” said Percy, “hello.”

Sally climbed into the seat beside Percy. The stranger smiled with perfect white teeth. “Ms Jackson!” she greeted enthusiastically as the driver closed the door. “We spoke on the phone. I’m Melissa Aurai, but, please, call me Mellie.” She held her hand out to shake and Sally took it, looking only a little apprehensive.

The limo rumbled to life as the driver started the engine and they smoothly pulled away from the curb. As they pulled out, Percy glanced out the back window to see a nondescript black car following a short distance away.

“Mom?” he said. “What’s going on?”

Sally put a calming hand on Percy’s shoulder. “I know this is probably scary, but just be patient.”

Mellie gave him what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile but it did little to put him at ease. “I work for your father, Mr Jackson, as an administrative assistant. I’m here to escort you to your meeting.”

“Where exactly are we going?” asked Sally.

“To the Plaza Hotel,” said Mellie. “Before we arrive there are just a few formalities we have to go over.”

Mellie gave Percy a goodnatured look that said _can you believe this?_ the same way customer service employees or waiters did when something didn’t go quite right to get them over to your side. Then she reached into her purse and retrieved two stapled booklets that looked far too much like Mr Blofis’ tests for Percy’s comfort. She handed one to Percy and one to Sally along with a pen for each of them.

Percy was still stuck on “Plaza Hotel”. That was the kind of place that would turn someone like him in old jeans and a hoodie away at the door.

“These are confidentiality agreements,” Mellie was saying. “The usual you won’t speak to the press or post anything on _Twitter_ , that kind of thing.”

 _The usual?_ Percy looked at his mom but she was already scanning through the agreement.

“Oh yes,” said Mellie, misunderstanding Percy’s hesitation, “your mother will have to sign for you as well, sir, you are under eighteen after all, but just have a quick look through to be sure you understand it.” Then she went back to tapping away on her tablet.

When they reached the hotel, Percy reached to open the limo’s door but before he could so much as touch the handle, a man on the sidewalk in the hotel livery had opened it for him. For a moment, Percy just stared up at him as the man held the door open, standing, still as a statue, with one hand behind his back.

Sally gave Percy a gentle nudge in the back and he stepped out of the car. The man in the suit bowed his head stiffly in a way that made Percy distinctly self-conscious.

Sally followed Percy out and Mellie brought up the rear.

“Right this way,” said Mellie, gesturing them to follow her up the steps to the glass doors.

Percy approached the front doors with hesitation. What if he smudged the perfect glass with his fingerprints?

The lobby inside was enormous. Percy recognized it from that scene in _Home Alone 2_ where the kid is lost and has to ask some rich business guy for directions. The ceiling was high and hanging from it was a low, crystal chandelier. The chandelier dangled above a round table decorated with flower vases. Elegant potted plants were placed tastefully throughout the room.

Mellie led them briskly to an elevator which had an actual _attendant_. Could rich people seriously not handle pushing a button?

“Penthouse, please,” said Mellie, typing away on her phone.

Percy stared at his mom. “Mom, seriously, what is happening? Why are we _here?_ ”

“Just be patient, okay? I promise I’ll explain everything soon.”

When they reached the top, Mellie led the way out of the elevator with Percy and Sally following behind. The hallways were carpeted in rich jade and the walls hung with oil paintings.

Around the corner at the end of the hall, two men dressed in matching black suits and sunglasses stood to either side of a double door. The one to the left stepped forward slightly and smiled. It probably would have been reassuring if Percy could actually see his eyes. With the sunglasses it was more like the terminator was closing in.

The other man sidestepped around Percy and started fiddling around with his backpack. Percy looked over his shoulder at him on confusion.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

The man didn't respond, just pulled Percy's skateboard out of his backpack where it was sticking out the top and examined it. He knocked on the board, as if checking for a hollow sound, he spun the wheels and scratched at the grip. When he was satisfied that it was safe, he handed the board back to Percy.

"Uh... thank you?”

He examined Percy’s backpack and then patted him down. Then he moved on to Sally. Percy watched with narrowed eyes as he patted her down. When the guard was satisfied that neither of them were packing, he returned to his post beside the door.

Mellie threw the double doors wide and gestured Sally and Percy inside. ”Please, make yourselves comfortable."

The room looked kind of like a second lobby with its fancy old-looking couches arranged in a circle. Huge windows looked out over a large rose garden. Was this what hoity-toity people called a parlour?

Percy plopped down on the nearest sofa, running his fingers along the velvet covering and shrugged off of his backpack to sit beside him. His skateboard sat on his lap and he drummed his fingers idly against the wooden bottom. Sally sank down onto the sofa beside him. Her _Sweet on America_ uniform smelled chocolate and licorice.

“This is really weird, Mom,” said Percy, craning his neck to look around.

“I know,” she said, smoothing her skirt, “but thank you for being so good about it. I’m sure everything will be explained soon.”

“Yes, that would be the plan.”

Percy’s head whipped up at the new voice. An unfamiliar man stood in the doorway. He was white but tan, with chin-length black hair and the build of a swimmer. He wore a pressed, navy shirt and grey slacks with a matching jacket. His black shoes shone with polish.

“Good afternoon, Ms Jackson, Perseus. I am Triton.”

Percy stared at Triton _._ He had an easy confidence about him but it did nothing to set Percy’s mind at ease. It was just plain weird to have someone know his name when they had never met before. No one called him ‘Perseus’, anyway.

“Uh,” said Percy, “hi.”

Triton took a seat on the sofa opposite Percy and his mother. “I’m sure you have plenty of questions.” His eyes flicked to Sally who squeezed her hands together tightly in her lap. “Ms Jackson, have you ever spoken to Perseus about this?”

Sally took Percy’s hand in hers. “Sally, please, and no, we– _I_ thought it would be best if we had this discussion together.”

“I see.”

“Percy,” said Sally, holding his hands in hers, “this might sound a little strange but I want you to hear us out. This is… well, this might come as a bit of a surprise, but it’s really important.”

Percy looked between the two of them in bewilderment. “Mom, what is going on? Gabe wasn’t like, in the mob or something, right? This is too weird.”

“I know. I know!” Sally squeezed her eyes shut. She sighed, then opened her eyes again. “Okay. We don’t talk about your dad very much.” _Yeah, because he’s a deadbeat,_ Percy finished in his head. “His name– his _full_ name is Poseidon Oceanus Delphin Primordia, have you heard that name before? At school maybe?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“He was the crown prince of a country called Olympia.”

Percy actually laughed out loud. “Yeah, sure. My dad is a prince. Uh-huh. You're joking.”

Sally held his hand a little tighter. “Percy…”

Triton frowned at him. “Is that funny to you?”

“Duh! Because if he's really a prince, then I–”

The words lodged in his throat. No. There was no way. That was just stupid.

“Exactly,” said Triton. “You are not just Percy Jackson; you are Perseus Alexander Jackson Primordia, Prince of Olympia."

Percy choked on his own breath. The world spun around him. “Me? A prince? Shut up! _”_

Triton made an affronted noise and adjusted the lapels of his jacket. “I beg your pardon?”

Percy shook his head. It couldn’t be real. It just _couldn’t_. His father couldn’t be a prince and Percy most definitely wasn’t one either. “No, no, not shut up I meant… shut up. Oh my God. You’ve got to be kidding. No, no this isn’t happening. No.”

Triton pursed his lips. “Yes,” he said, “it is. Though your father is no longer a prince. Your grandfather passed recently, meaning your father is now _king_. So yes, Perseus, you are a prince of Olympia, and _I_ am the Crown Prince.”

Percy stared at him. “But that would mean–” No. Way. “Mom, no!”

Sally held her hands up in surrender. “Not mine! I promise. You’re half-siblings.”

Percy stood abruptly from the sofa. His skateboard clattered to the ground.

“Let me get this straight,” he said, starting to pace around the delicate coffee table. “You want me to believe that my dad is the prince– no, _king_ of a country I’ve never even heard of. That this means that I’m a prince, and that you,” he pointed at Triton, “are my half-brother.”

Triton looked unimpressed. “Yes,” he said, “that is the gist of it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense! This kind of stuff just doesn’t happen. This isn’t a freaking TV show!”

Was it? Was some D-list comedian with a cameraman about to jump out from behind a drape and yell, “Gotcha!”? Maybe he was on a prank show.

“Mom, you told me Dad was an ambassador or something.” Percy’s mind was reeling. “He pays my tuition, he sends birthday cards, but doesn’t _rule a country!_ ”

“Percy,” said Sally, “I know this is a shock–”

“But, Mom, you can’t have _married_ him or anything. If it _is_ true I shouldn’t even count!”

“In Olympia,” said Trition, “any child of the ruling monarch is included in the line of succession regardless of the parents’ marital status. As long as it can be proven that you are his son, yes you do ‘count’.”

“If any of this is actually true, why didn’t anyone ever tell me sooner?”

“We were going to tell you when you turned eighteen,” said Sally, “but when your grandfather died things changed. Your dad contacted me and asked if we could tell you sooner, to prepare you.”

“Prepare me for what?”

“The job,” said Triton, as though it should be obvious. “Father has decided that he wants to publicly recognize you. You are now second in line to the throne of Olympia, and that comes with a host of complications that you, frankly, are not equipped to handle.”

Percy spluttered. “B-but why would you pick me to be your prince?”

“Because he’s sentimental,” said Triton, “and his younger brother is incompetent. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘an heir and a spare’? I am an only child without you. If anything were to happen to me, the crown would pass to our uncle Zeus who is an even worse prospect to rule than you.”

 _“Rule?”_ Percy repeated incredulously. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Now you have really got the wrong guy. I never lead anybody– not at Boy Scouts, not in gym class– My goal in life is to pass tenth grade and I’m still figuring that out.”

“Believe me,” said Triton, “I want this even less than you do, but Father has enough on his plate right now without us causing him more problems. He asked me to come here to help you so you are going to let me. Legally, you are now in the line of succession. You are a prince and it is my job to make sure that you don’t fail. You will study languages, history, art, and political science. I can teach you to walk, talk, sit, stand, eat, and dress like a prince. Eventually, you’ll get used to palace life in Olympia–”

Percy sputtered. “Hang on, what? Live in Olympia? Just– Rewind and freeze. l'm no prince. I'm still waiting for my voice to drop for God’s sake. I'm dyslexic! I have ADHD! I refuse to move to and rule a country! And– do you want another reason? I don't want to _be_ a prince!”

Triton looked like he was losing his temper. “Well, you are one, whether we like it or not. Your King, who also happens to be our father, has decided that you will be learning everything that you could possibly need to know to take on your role. If you have a drop of patriotism or family loyalty in you, you will do exactly that – and you will keep this whole business private as well.”

“As if I’d want anyone to know that my family is a freak show.”

Triton pushed himself to his feet.

“I think it’s time we went home,” Sally cut in before either of them could say anything else. “Percy has a lot to think about.”

Triton paused and straightened his jacket. “Yes,” he said, in a voice that betrayed forced composure, “I think that would be best. I’ll have Mellie prepare the car.”

“I’ll walk,” Percy snapped. He swung his backpack onto his shoulder, snatched up his skateboard, and went to the door alone.

“Where are you going?” his mom called after him.

“Rachel’s,” Percy bit out, “to talk to somebody normal.”

***

Calling Rachel Dare “normal” was a bit of a stretch. Rachel liked going to protests, painting herself gold and standing really still on the sidewalk to raise money for charity, and blasting _Metallica_ loud enough to rattle the windows of her family’s penthouse. Plus, she was rich even by Goode High’s standards. Her father’s _Dare Enterprises_ was so enormous Mr Dare could probably buy Percy’s entire neighbourhood in cash.

Percy, Rachel, and Grover had become friends at their freshman orientation for Goode High and had been joined at the hip since then. They spent every school day and almost every weekend together whenever Rachel wasn’t busy at her family’s various fancy schmancy high society functions.

Her place wasn’t far at all from the Plaza. As Percy made his way there, weaving in and out of pedestrians on his board, he shot off a few quick texts to her and Grover on his iPhone.

God, there was another clue he’d missed. The phone had been a birthday gift from his mom but he should have known that she wasn’t able to afford it. It must have really been from his dad. How could he not have known? How could he not have asked? True, his mom had never exactly been happy to chat about all the good ol’ days with the guy who walked out on her but had he really never even asked what country the guy was from?

The doorman at Rachel’s building was used to Percy showing up and let him in without a fuss even though Percy stood out like a sore thumb in the ritzy building. Rachel was waiting for him at the top of his elevator ride. She looked as out of place as he did with her frizzy red hair and paint-splattered jeans.

“I’m ordering pizza,” Rachel declared as soon as Percy stepped out of the elevator.

“I already texted Grover,” said Percy, “he’s on his way.”

The three of them spent the evening in Rachel’s room. Her bedroom at the penthouse was ridiculously big with a huge TV and a couch alongside the typical bed and nightstands.

Percy lay upside down on the couch with his legs over the back and his head hanging off the edge, hair brushing the floor. Grover was sprawled next to him hugging a huge bowl of popcorn. Rachel sat cross-legged on the floor with a sketchbook in her lap. She doodled idly as Legolas took down orcs on the flat screen.

“Wouldn’t that be cool?” Grover said around a mouthful of popcorn. “Fighting monsters and stuff?”

“Cool powers,” Percy agreed.

“Ragtag band of misfit heroes.” Rachel chimed in. “Sounds like a dream.”

“Except for the almost dying parts,” Grover pointed out.

Percy nodded but the motion made him feel kind of sick since he was upside down and he stopped abruptly. It was trippy to watch Orlando Bloom and Viggo Mortensen battle their way across the plains of Middle Earth upside down.

The pizza had been great and hanging out with his friends was usually enough to chill Percy out when he got too in his head. This time, though, he couldn’t shake the feelings left over from his meeting at the Plaza.

It was all too crazy for him to fathom. He was a prince? It hadn’t all been a prank?

The room swam around him and Percy sat up abruptly. His stomach lurched unpleasantly. Maybehe had eaten too much.

“You okay, dude?” asked Grover.

Percy blinked rapidly. When the spots cleared from his vision, both Grover and Rachel were staring at him.

“Yeah… yeah. Just ate to quick I guess. I think I’m going to head home.”

Rachel and Grover looked at each other. He knew he wasn’t fooling them.

“You know you can’t talk to us, right Perce?” said Rachel, fiddling with the spiral coil of her sketchbook.

Except he couldn’t. Even if Triton hadn’t told him to keep it a secret, how could he possibly explain this to anyone?

“Yeah, I know. Look, I’ll see you guys at school, okay?”

After he got home, Percy stewed in his room for most of the night. He skipped the late dinner his mom offered him and ignored her timid knocks. The only time he opened the door was when his dog pawed at it, demanding to be let in.

Their dog, Mrs O’Leary, was a huge Newfoundland that, again, Percy belatedly realized they probably couldn’t afford. How much of his life was financed by his dad? He knew she was well-bred, and he took her to a doggy daycare every weekday. Then there were vet bills and $100 bags of dog food that she devoured in days. How had he really never thought to ask what had convinced his mom to give in to his pleadings for a pet?

Maybe it was expected that princes had dogs. An image of young guys in Victorian clothes and top hats riding horses and surrounded by hunting hounds flashed through Percy’s head. He and Mrs O’Leary didn’t fit anywhere in that picture.

Since being let in, Mrs O’Leary had curled herself into a giant fluffy ball on her dog bed leaving Percy to wallow in his own misery.

He lay flat on his back in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The popcorn plaster was dotted with plastic glow in the dark stars that had long since lost any ability to produce light. They had been part of his sixth birthday present. At the time, Percy had been obsessed with space and intent on becoming an astronaut when he was older. His mom had helped him stick them to the ceiling, standing on his bed and pressing them to the roof under his direction. They hadn’t been able to reach the rest of his room so the area above his bed had been completely covered with them, lighting up his room for months after he’d received them. How could the parents who indulged in that kind of silly present, lie to there kid about something so important for so long?

His mind jumped between outright fury, to confusion and back again. How could his own mother lie to him? And for fifteen whole years? It was insane. And who else had known about this? He must have aunts and uncles and cousins. Apparently he had a half-brother too. Why hadn’t they ever tried to contact him? Maybe they had all been just as clueless about Percy’s existence as Percy had been about theirs. Why had he never seen anything in the news about his father? Shouldn’t there have been tabloid pictures or something? Or was Olympia so small that they just didn’t hear about it? He couldn’t remember hearing anything about the Swedish royal family, and he couldn’t name any Saudi princes off the top of his head.

It occurred to him that his dad probably wasn’t actually that great of a guy. Sure he had paid Percy’s tuition, got him a nice phone, a dog, but Percy’s very existence meant that his dad was a cheater at least. Triton was older than Percy – like, _a lot_ older, maybe even ten years – so Poseidon had been married already when he met Sally. God, did that mean Percy had a stepmother?

A knock sounded at the door, louder than Sally’s earlier attempts, and Percy huffed. He just wanted to be left alone. The door opened a crack. Percy turned his head to look as his mother poked her head through.  
  
“We need to talk,” she said simply.

Percy ignored her and went back to staring at the ceiling. His mom sighed and let herself further into the room.

“Fine,” she said, “if you don’t want to talk, I will. Just listen.” She perched herself on the edge of his bed, one hand resting gently on his ankle. “After I found out I was pregnant, we all discussed it. Your father, your grandparents… your father’s wife… and they all agreed to keep a distance so you would have a chance of a normal childhood free of emotional complications. We were going to tell you when you turned eighteen but when your grandfather died… things changed, Percy. We wanted to protect you.” She sighed. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

"The right thing for who, Mom?" Percy demanded.

"For all of us! If we kept ourselves separated, he would be able to raise Triton to be his heir and I would be free to live my life with you. Percy, please. I was very young. I didn’t have any idea what I was getting into. I just wanted to write! Can you honestly see me living in a palace? I didn’t want that life – for either of us.”

There was a long silence while Percy mulled over what his mom had said. He guessed he could kind of see her point. She wasn’t the kind of person who wanted the spotlight and she would never have been happy having everyone waiting on her. But he _could_ see her living in a palace. If anyone deserved it, it was his mom. Percy didn’t think he had ever heard her raise her voice or say an unkind word to anyone.

After a pause, Percy nodded to show he had digested what his mom had said.

“I know this is all a bit crazy,” she continued, “and I probably didn’t help by keeping you in the dark all the way to the hotel, but I hope you know that I really do want what’s best for you. If you think that that is stepping away from all this prince business then I am here for you, whatever you need. Just please give Triton a chance. I don’t know him, but I knew your dad, very briefly a very long time ago, and I think that you deserve to know the rest of your family.”

Percy wasn’t exactly convinced of that but he nodded again anyway. He could never say no to his mom. It sucked being mad at her. “Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll try.”

Sally beamed at him and her smile warmed him from the inside out.


	2. Sunday

Percy spent the following morning stretched out on their old couch with Mrs O’Leary and a bowl of cereal. It was Sunday and his mom had gone into work early for the opening shift. Mrs O’Leary lay across Percy’s legs, drooling on his blue plaid pyjama bottoms. Percy had a bowl of cereal in his lap and the open box on the end table for refills. A Doctor Who marathon on the Space Channel was playing louder than Sally tolerated when she was home.

The apartment intercom buzzed.

Percy and Mrs O’Leary looked at each other. The Newfoundland cocked her head like she was interested in how Percy was going to answer the door without dislodging her.

Percy carefully eased one foot out from under Mrs O’Leary’s furry belly and then the other. The dog gazed at him with her dark, watery eyes. He winced in apology as he left her alone on the sofa to answer the intercom.

The intercom crackled to life as Percy pressed the call button. “Hello?”

“Hi! Good morning, Mr Jackson.” Mellie. No one else could be so put together and perky before noon on a Saturday.

“Are you looking for my mom?”

“No, no. We just thought a little chat might be helpful after yesterday afternoon.”

‘We.’ He supposed that meant Triton was there too. Percy glanced back at Mrs O’Leary. She had fallen back asleep and didn’t offer any advice.

“Uh, okay. Come on up.” He buzzed them in.

He figured he had less than ten minutes while the pair climbed the four flights of stairs to the Jackson apartment.

He cast his gaze around the living room. His mom generally kept the place pretty clean but Percy had a way of messing it up when left to his own devices. Besides his box of cereal and bowl, there was a scattering of Mrs O’Leary’s chew toys left from a vigorous game of tug-o-war, a basket of laundry Percy had been tasked with folding and putting away (that he hadn’t yet touched), and his discarded blanket rumpled in a heap.

He _could_ tidy up, maybe even get dressed, before Triton and Mellie arrived. There was no elevator in his building so they would have to take the stairs. But was there really any point? Hey, if they wanted to be involved in his life, they got to see what it looked like.

Percy sat back down on the couch and absently scratched Mrs O’Leary behind the ears.

The dog was the first one to the door when their guests arrived. She heard the footsteps out in the hallway and was up off the couch before Percy could catch hold of her red nylon collar. Mrs O’Leary bounded for the door, ears and shaggy fur bouncing, before they even knocked.

Percy followed and opened the door with one leg stuck awkwardly in front of Mrs O’Leary to hold her back. It wasn’t very effective since she weighed about as much as she did. The dog bowled past him. She jumped at Mellie trying to lick at her face.

“Oh!” Mellie took a step back, her back flat against the door.

Percy darted forward and grabbed the back of Mrs O’Leary’s collar. “Mrs O’Leary! Down!” He hauled her back and used his free hand to push the dog’s rump down to the floor. “Sit. Mrs O’Leary, sit!”

From his crouch, he looked up at Mellie and Triton. They were both as pressed and proper as they had been the day before. Percy was suddenly very conscious of the fact that he was wearing PJs that were just slightly too small for him and hadn’t even brushed his teeth yet. Maybe he should have gotten dressed after all.

“Uh, sorry,” he said, straightening. “She gets excited meeting new people.”

Mrs O’Leary’s tail thumped the floor in agreement.

“I can see that,” said Triton.

Percy gave a short whistle for Mrs O’Leary and pointed at the large dog bed in front of the TV. “Lie down, girl.”

The huge dog padded happily over to the cushion and flopped down. She watched as everyone settled around the living room, wagging her tail.

The Jackson apartment was certainly no palace. It had a tiny living room with an attached kitchen and a short hallway leading to the two bedrooms and single bathroom. The place was on the fifth floor and the building had no elevator. The only real selling point was that the landlord allowed pets.

Percy resumed his post next to the cereal with crossed legs and Mellie settled on the opposite end of the couch, typing quietly on her tablet computer as usual. As he took up a spot in the squashy green armchair, Triton looked the apartment over with a careful but not entirely judgemental eye. He took in the stack of Percy’s school books on the coffee table, the cereal box and bowl next to the couch, and the threadbare dog toys strewn across the carpet.

“So,” said Percy, swirling his cereal around the bowl with his spoon, “any more bombs to drop on me?”

Triton’s eyes met his with calm confidence. _They’re green,_ Percy realized with a jolt. They had the same eyes.

“Some people would consider this a good thing for you.”

“You want to uproot my life and relocate me to a country I’ve never heard of, and that’s supposed to be a good thing?”

Triton sighed. “No one ever thought that you would need to be involved. There was no reason to think that my parents wouldn’t have any more children after me, but now that Father is king he wants you in the succession. We all know that you weren’t expecting it, because none of us were expecting it either, but he is legitimizing you and you cannot legally renounce your title until you’re an adult.”

Percy picked some lint off of his pyjama pants.

“Perseus–”

“Please stop calling me that. It’s Percy.”

“Perseus,” Percy rolled his eyes, “your mother has always insisted that there wasn’t any reason for you to know, and Father agreed with her. Of course, I don’t think he knew exactly what your home situation _was,_ but maybe growing up here away from the palace was good for you in a way. A healthy sense of independence.”

“Do you practice being condescending or is it natural?”

Triton glared at him. “What I am trying to say is that everyone thought that by not telling you they were doing you a favour. They didn’t even tell me until a few months ago. Anyway, there is an annual ball in a few weeks and Father intends to present you to the press and the public then. Before that, you need some instruction, which is why I am here.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Percy, I’m here to help you.”

Percy stared down at his hands in his lap, considering. “If I do this,” he said slowly, “could I have a house?”

“A house?”

“For my mom,” he clarified, looking up again. “With a yard for Mrs O’Leary and a garden. Mom’s always wanted a garden.”

Triton nodded. He looked pleased to have made some headway. “Yes, that can be arranged. Are you agreeing then?”

“Agreeing to what? Just some classes and a ball, right?”

“The intention is for you to take up residence in the palace, I believe, and become an active member of the royal family.”

Percy shifted uncomfortably. “Look, I’ll do those classes and stuff but do I have to decide about the rest right now?”

“Well…” Triton looked torn. “No, I suppose the final decision can wait until the ball itself.”

“And no one’s asking me to rule or anything, right? Because that’s an immediate no.”

Triton made a choking noise that might have been stifling a laugh. “God, no. No, you’ll never have any actual governing to worry about. We’re a constitutional monarchy in this day and age anyway but, barring catastrophe, you’ll never have to wear the crown.”

Percy sagged in relief. “Okay. Okay, I can do that then. A couple classes, a party, maybe a vacation to meet dad. That isn’t so hard.”

“No, it isn’t,” Triton agreed. “Now there’s something downstairs that I want to show you, and then I’d like you to come with me so we can begin.”

“What, you mean we’re starting prince lessons _today?_ ”

Triton blinked at him like Percy was speaking a foreign language. “When did you think we were starting? The ball is only three weeks away and I don’t think you even know what a salad fork looks like.”

Percy wasn’t sure if he was angry or not. He was too overwhelmed by all of the information he’d received in the last twenty-four hours.

He looked down at his PJs.

“Huh. Um, okay. One second.”

He slipped off the couch and hurried down the short hallway to his bedroom.

Percy was not a tidy person. His room was was strewn with clothes and loose sheets of homework. The carpet was littered with crumbs and odd pieces from his school bag; a pencil here, an eraser there. A party size bag of chips lay open half full on the dresser and several empty cans of Cherry Coke were stacked, one on top of the other, on the windowsill.

The walls were painted a deep blue and hung with posters from Percy’s favourite skate shop and old drawings from when he was a little kid. A twin size bed was pushed in one corner and covered with a green and blue spotted duvet and matching pillows. A worn bedside table stood next to the bed holding a small lamp decorated with a varied collection of dinosaur stickers. The desk sat under the window covered with Percy’s school books and pencil case. His backpack hung from the back of the desk chair.

Percy shucked off his PJs and scrambled for a pair of clean–ish jeans and a T-shirt. He threw on a pair of socks and stuffed his feet into his worn out sneakers.

When he returned to the living room, Triton had abandoned her squashy armchair to investigate the apartment. He was carefully examining the collection of photographs on the living room walls: Percy and his mom at the beach, at the zoo, Percy’s first day of kindergarten, Sally’s birthday – featuring the disastrous birthday cake Percy had prepared.

Mellie was still on the couch and armed with her tablet computer but Mrs O’Leary had moved to sit on the floor beside her and was drooling in her lap.

Triton glanced up as Percy approached. “When was this picture taken?” he asked, indicating the photo in front of him.

It was of Percy and Grover at the skatepark, grinning from ear to ear with their arms slung around each other’s shoulders. They sat at the top of the ramp, graffitied cement peeking out from behind their legs. The sky behind them was a bright, cloudless blue and they squinted against the sun. Grover wore jeans and a green T-Shirt imprinted with a yellow recycling triangle. His crutches lay in a heap behind them. Percy wore cargo shorts and a plain red shirt. Percy’s legs were dotted with multi-coloured bandaids and a smattering of bruises from various falls from his skateboard.

“Two summers ago I think,” said Percy. “I was… thirteen?”

“You look a lot like him.”

Percy knew who he was talking about. He didn’t quite know what to say to that.

“Um,” he said. “Wasn’t there something you wanted to show me?”

Triton looked away from the photo. “Yes,” he said, “of course.” He gestured to the door. “Shall we?”

Mellie followed them down from the apartment. It was slightly disconcerting to have her following them, always just a handful of paces behind. Percy wondered how you could get used to something like that.

As they crossed the lobby, Triton took hold of Percy’s elbow and steered him purposefully to the main doors.

”There's someone I do want you to meet," he said.

Percy stopped abruptly at the sidewalk. A sleek black limousine sat waiting on the curb. The limo had little flags that Percy guessed were the Olympian national flag waving from the corners of the hood and the trunk. It was idling, the engine fumes streaming out of the exhaust pipe in a slim cloud that would have had Grover and Rachel up on their respective soapboxes.

A tall, college-aged guy in a suit leaned against the hood. When he saw Percy and Triton emerge from the building, he straightened and sent Percy a discreet, and slightly mischievous, smile.

“This is for you.”

Percy's jaw dropped. “I get my own limo?”

Triton indicated the man who had been leaning against the car. “And a driver. Perseus, this is Luke."

Luke dipped his head in the same formal half-bow the men at the hotel had performed. He looked friendly enough to Percy. He had an athletic, muscular build, short-cropped sandy blond hair and blue eyes. He wore a suit and one of those earpieces with the clear curly wire Percy always saw in movies about secret agents.

“Uh, hi,” said Percy. “Nice to meet you.“

"Luke will be keeping an eye on you for us," said Triton. "He will be your chauffeur as well as your bodyguard."

"So a babysitter," Percy concluded. Luke grinned at him good-naturedly. “What exactly do you want me to use this for again?”

Triton shrugged. “Anything really. Going out with your friends, lessons with me, school–”

Percy actually laughed. Sloan and his friends would have a field day. “School? I can’t take this to school – there’ll be a riot! Everyone knows I don’t have this kind of money. Besides, I have to take Mrs O’Leary to daycare before class.”

“I’m sure that Luke won’t mind stopping on your way.”

“What about my friends? We’ve taken the same train to school together since we were kids.”

Triton gave him a look of plain impatience. “Then you’ll pick your friends up too. The point is that you aren’t going to be taking public transportation anymore. This is safer.”

Percy thought that that probably wasn’t actually true. The number of car crashes in New York had to be insanely high and he’d never actually seen anyone get hurt or attacked on the subway.”

“We will start our lessons today and, beginning this week, Luke will collect you after school every day and bring you to classes with me.”

“I have to pick Mrs O’Leary up after school too.”

It was true. _Quintus’ Obedience School and Doggy Daycare_ closed just half an hour after Percy’s school finished in the afternoon.

“Then Luke will take your dog home as well.” Triton paused and closed her eyes briefly like he was restraining himself from ranting. “This is important, you do understand that, don’t you?”

“I do,” Percy insisted, “but I’ve still got stuff to do, you know? I’m almost flunking English, and I have to make sure I take care of Mrs O’Leary –– that’s the deal I’ve got with Mom.”

“Very well.” He did not sound sincere. “Luke will collect you from school and bring you to the lessons, and the dog will be brought home for you. I promise you will have plenty of time to study.”

Percy almost wished he hadn’t said anything about his English grade.

At a nod from Triton, Luke opened the back door to the limo and Percy was ushered inside. Triton followed him and Mellie got into the passenger seat up front. The interior was upholstered in cream leather that Percy was certain he would irreversibly stain at some point. A small T.V sat in a little shelving unit in the corner beside a mini-fridge.

Percy immediately went for the fridge only to slump back in disappointment when he saw that it was empty.

As he slid into the driver’s seat Luke said, “Sir, if you give me a list of your favourites, I can stock it for the morning.”

“Thanks, man.”

Percy grinned at Luke’s reflection in the rearview mirror and Triton seemed very slightly amused by the interaction.

The all buckled in and the limo smoothly pulled away from the curb and into traffic.

Triton sat across from Percy and looked him over as he had at their first meeting the day before. “We have a lot to do,” he said. “Today you’re getting a hair cut and being fitted for a new wardrobe.”

“What’s wrong with my hair? Yours is longer than mine is.”

“Mine looks like this on purpose.”

Percy resisted the urge to stick his tongue out which he thought demonstrated quite a lot of princely restraint.

“I know you have a school uniform,” said Triton, “outside of that, you should get used to wearing nicer clothes: no ripped jeans and no more T-shirts with pictures.”

Percy looked down at himself. His jeans weren’t that bad. Sure, maybe the knees were a little worn and there might have been a little hole near the left hem but they weren’t gross or anything. His shirt wasn’t bad either. Clearly Triton was just full of himself. But it also made him wonder if even Percy’s clothes weren’t up to scratch, what would Triton make of him once they really got started.

“Look,” said Percy, “you and I both know that I’m not cut out for this. I probably never will be. You shouldn’t waste your time–”

“You are second in line to the Olympian throne,” Triton said seriously, “and I’ve been tasked with helping you learn everything that you need to know to handle what that position involves. Eventually, it will be your decision, and I cannot force you to cooperate, but I will do everything that I can to prepare you.”

Percy rubbed the back of his neck. He had been trying not to think about the consequences of his choice, or the pressure on him to make what everyone else seemed to think was the right one.

“What does being ‘second in line’ mean exactly? What do I actually have to do?” Percy asked nervously.

Triton waved his question away dismissively. “Other than completing your lessons, attending functions of state; dinners, balls, the funerals of world leaders, that sort of thing. You will represent Olympia in everything you do.”

Percy let out a long exhale. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Yes, it is. Which is why I’m here to–”

“Help me. Yeah, I get the point. Look, I’ve kind of got a lot of homework this weekend. Do you know how long this is going to take?”

Triton stared at him like Percy was a particularly dumb child. “It will take,” he said slowly, “as long as it takes. _I_ am prepared to sacrifice my time, and even myself, for the good of my country. Even if you are not.”

Wow, things had gotten unnecessarily patriotic.

“Um,” said Percy, “okay.”

As they drove, Triton began to fill Percy in on the finer points of why he was suddenly being brought out of the woodwork and thrust into the spotlight.

Their grandfather, the King of Olympia, had died suddenly though not unexpectedly. Apparently he had cancer which was obviously sad but Percy hadn’t even known him so he wasn’t exactly wracked with grief.

Their father, Poseidon, had an older brother who could have taken the throne but had abdicated to join parliament instead because he “is horribly unpopular and better with finances than human beings” according to Triton. So Poseidon assumed the throne as King with his wife, Triton’s mother, Amphitrite as Queen and Triton as their heir.

Triton was an only child which left Poseidon’s younger brother Zeus as second in line. Zeus was a bit of a playboy despite being in his early forties and not considered a reliable candidate for sovereignty. Which left Poseidon without a spare to his heir. Enter Percy stage right.

Triton also hinted that there was more of a personal reason as well. Poseidon had had some sort of realization when his father died and wanted to get to know his second-born son before it was too late or something. It was probably supposed to be a touching story to get Percy more enthusiastic about the whole process but, in reality, the web of succession just made his head hurt. The guy had had fifteen years to pick up a pen and write a birthday card and Percy had gotten radio silence, so he didn’t really care how much his dad wanted to get to know him.

They pulled up on fifth avenue in front of a glass-fronted, boutique-looking store. Frosted gold cursive on the central window proclaimed simply _Adonis’._ The doors were black painted wood with eight panes of glass set into each door.

A little bell tinkled as Triton pushed the doors open. Inside, the place was purposefully masculine. The carpet was grey and the walls a rich dark wood panelling. The spindly chairs set before mirrors and styling stations were upholstered in dark leather, as were the couches and comfortable looking arm chairs dotted about the establishment.

There were no other patrons inside. A very handsome man stood waiting for them inside. He wore a suit with a waistcoat but had discarded the jacket over the back of a nearby chair.

“Adonis,” Triton greeted with familiarity.

Adonis swept into a deep bow. “Your Highness.” When he straightened, he was smiling a blindingly white grin.

“Allow me to introduce my brother, Perseus.”

 _Brother._ Not half-brother, but _brother_. Percy had never had siblings before and he wasn’t sure what to think about it. Triton was unpredictable and Percy couldn’t quite get a read on him. Refusing to acknowledge the _half_ in their relationship felt… odd to Percy. Like erasing the fact that they only shared one parent and that their mothers were very different people. He made a silent promise to himself that he wouldn’t allow his mom to be erased from the narrative, she would always be his mom, and no crown or long lost dad got to change that.

Adonis bowed again, this time to Percy. “An honour to meet you, Your Highness.”

“Oh, um, nice to meet you too?”

The corner of Triton’s mouth twitched in what could have been a smile or a sneer. “Perseus here needs a full fitting – Mellie should have contacted you with the details. A complete wardrobe and an appointment with Narcissus.”

“Of course, sir, of course.”

He ushered Percy to stand on a low, velvet upholstered stool surrounded by three full-length mirrors. It was more than a little disconcerting to have his own image reflected back at him from all angles while a stranger examined him with such scrutiny. It made him feel like one of those pageant girls in a swimsuit competition: completely exposed.

Percy tried not to fidget as Adonis flitted around him with a measuring tape. He began with taking Percy’s measurements and eventually slipped a sample jacket around Percy’s shoulders.

Besides having his school clothes adjusted to fit him perfectly, Triton and Adonis also insisted that he have one set of white tie and one set of black tie attire. They discussed fabric and cut without asking for Percy’s input. Evidently Adonis could guess that Percy had no clue what they were talking about.

The sample looked like a jacket turned inside out. It was lined with visible seams and chalk markings and felt rougher to the touch than Percy had expected. Adonis poked and prodded as he checked the fit, marking the garment with chalk every now and then. Then he whisked the jacket away.

“Three additional fittings should do the trick,” he said to Triton. “Usually it would take at least six weeks to have a custom suit prepared but for you, I put a rush on it, eh? Four weeks at most.”

Once Percy had been poked and prodded enough, they moved to one of the hairstyling stations near the window. Percy settled in one of the spindly leather chairs with the stylist, who introduced himself as Narcissus, standing behind him. The man lifted Percy’s head with light hands under his chin.

“Hmm.”

He turned Percy’s head to the left, then the right.

Did this guy even know how to do hair like Percy’s?

“Hmm.”

“Definitely shorter,” Triton decided, “and take more off of the sides.”

Percy squirmed a little in his chair. He felt like a doll they were playing dress-up with.

“ _Oui_ , of course, _votre_ _Altesse Royale_.”

There was a lot of hair on the floor when Narcissus finally pronounced Percy “ _magnifique”._ He whisked the plastic cape off of Percy with a flourish and immediately went about sweeping up the discarded hair with great enthusiasm, humming a tune to himself.

Percy stared at his reflection. It was weird how much difference a haircut could make. His hair was normally on the long side and it hadn’t been necessarily cut _short_ but it didn’t fall in his eyes anymore. Narcissus had run some kind of gel through it as well that made it sit just right.

Triton looked up from his phone at the stylist’s pronouncement. He stood and approached the chair to examine Percy’s new look.

“Thank you, Narcissus. Perfect as always.”

Before they left, Narcissus plied them with a large batch of his signature creams and gels which Percy was ordered to use to “prevent zat ‘orrible acne”.

His mom was already home and sitting in the kitchen when Percy got back with his bag of goodies. When she saw him, she nearly dropped her mug of coffee.

“Oh, Percy!” She exclaimed.

Percy reached up to mess with his shorter hair but she lightly smacked his hand away.

“Leave it alone,” she scolded. “When did you get this done?”

“Triton showed up this morning. Wanted to get a whole makeover done or something. He took me to this place on fifth.”

“It looks lovely, Percy.”

The funny thing was... when his mom said it he kind of believed her. He felt a sliver of his self-consciousness chip away leaving him standing taller and straighter than he had before.


	3. Monday

His mom was already sitting at the kitchen island when Percy came in for breakfast the next morning. When she saw Percy enter, Mrs O’Leary at his heels, she gifted him with one of her brilliant smiles.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Mom.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Bye, Mom. See you after school.”

He glanced down at his dog. Mrs. O’Leary had snuggled her way up beside him and was panting up at him, tongue lolling out of one side of her mouth comically and drool dripping onto his sneakers.

“Come on girl,” he urged with exaggerated excitement, clipping a leash to the dog’s collar, “want to go to school?”

Mrs. O’Leary barked in agreement and licked at his nose.

“Percy!” Sally called as Percy opened the door. He turned back and Sally tossed an apple at him. Percy caught it with one hand. “Breakfast. Have a good day.”

Percy laughed as Mrs O’Leary tugged him down the apartment stairs, practically falling over herself with excitement. They almost bowled over their small, skeletal neighbour Mr. Tantalus and his curly-haired rat of a dog on their way out the front door. The dog growled at them suspiciously as they passed.

“Morning, Buttons,” Percy called.

Buttons leaped at them, snarling and barking, but was ignored by Mrs. O’Leary in her hurry to get outside.

“Be nice, Buttons,” Mr. Tantalus scolded half-heartedly.

“Whoa. Whoa!” Percy exclaimed as Mrs. O’Leary tugged him out the door. “Sorry, Mr. Tantalus!”

Mrs. O’Leary’s ears flapped as she loped along.

Luke’s limo was already idling at the curb when Percy and Mrs O’Leary burst out of the building. As soon as they were safely ensconced in the limo's plush leather interior, Percy sagged in relief. As long as Luke didn’t drive like an old lady, he would probably be on time for school for once. Mrs O’Leary sniffed around the limo, investigating every inch and Percy tossed the leash to the floor to let her explore as she pleased.

“Seatbelt, please, sir.”

Right. Percy clicked the seat belt in place and Luke pulled out into traffic.

Percy whipped out his phone. He scrolled through his texts to his conversation with Grover and quickly tapped in a message.

_Dont stat waking! Got a ride. b ther in 10._

Barely a second later, a new message popped up on Percy's screen: _Ok???? Not moving. Dont steal a car._

Percy grinned and took a bite of his apple.

He took the moment to examine the limo's back seat. It was upholstered in cream leather which Percy was certain he would irreversibly stain at some point. A small T.V sat in a little shelving unit in the corner beside a mini-fridge. Percy immediately went for the fridge only to slump back in disappointment when he saw that it was empty.

From the front seat, Luke said, "Sir, have you thought about what you'd like me to pick up?"

Percy grinned at Luke's reflection in the rearview mirror. "Cherry coke and Hershey's. Lots of cherry coke and Hershey's. And Grover likes root beer.”

"Duly noted.

It took them ten minutes to reach their first stop. Percy grabbed Mrs O’Leary’s leash and hopped out of the limo. They had arrived at _Daedalus’ Obedience Classes and Doggy Daycare_ for Mrs. O’Leary’s day at training.

Percy took the low, concrete steps to the building two at a time Mrs. O’Leary pulled out in front of him, straining at the leash, tail wagging a mile a minute.

The door opened before Percy could reach for the handle and Daedalus grinned down at him. He was a fit middle-aged man with flecks of grey in his pale blond hair. A tattoo of a bird poked out from his shirt collar.

“Morning, Percy,” he greeted, accepting the leash immediately. “I got her, you just make it to school on time today.”

“Thank you!” Percy called, already darting back down the steps.

When they pulled up outside of Grover's building, he was already standing outside. He had his backpack slung over his shoulder and his jaw open in shock. Percy had the window rolled down and grinned at him through the door.

"Did I miss something?" Grover demanded. "Are we going to a wedding? What’s up with your hair and this car, man?”

Percy laughed. "Nah, just school. This is the surprise ride." He pushed the door open from the inside and scooted over so Grover could slide in and toss his crutches on the floor. 

"This is Luke," Percy introduced. ¨Luke, Grover. Grover, Luke.”

"Hi," said Grover, "nice to meet you.”

“Good morning, sir,” said Luke.

"You, uh, you do want a ride, right?" Percy asked, biting his lip.

"Duh! This is awesome.”

"Seat belts, please,” Luke prompted.

When they were buckled in and back out in traffic, Grover patted the upholstery beside him excitedly. "ls your mom dating an undertaker or something?”

"Uh, no! God, Grover!” Percy laughed. “No, some random from my dad’s side showed up and wants me to use it. I– I don't know. I guess he's just trying to be nice. To get me to like them or something."

“Okay fine, but seriously, what happened to your hair? It’s so _short_.”

Percy reached up and ruffled his hair. “Is it bad? Mom liked it.”

“It’s not _bad,”_ said Grover, “it’s just not you.”

Percy didn’t really know what to say to that so instead he leaned forward in his seat to speak to Luke.

"Hey, Luke? Could you park a block away from the school or something?”

The “ _please don’t tell him”_ went unsaid.

Luke met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “Of course.”

“I don’t want Sloan to see this,” Percy said to Grover.

“Whatever you say, dude,” said Grover. “Do you know what the emissions are like on this thing?”

Grover discussed the pros and cons of a mass shift to electric vehicles for most of their drive with little input from Percy. Luke seemed interested enough and Percy got the feeling that he wasn’t usually invited to join his passengers’ conversations. He seemed pleased to be included.

By the time they reached school, the warning bell had already rung. Groups of teenagers in navy blazers were trailing into the front doors. Goode High was a huge brownstone building fronted with three sets of tall double doors. The school had enough money and space to maintain a lawn out front which was dotted with picnic tables shady trees where the students ate their lunches or skipped class.

Its population was made up of trust fund babies and celebrity kids. That was probably why Percy’s dad had been fronting the money for tuition for the past year – Percy had been as blue-blooded as the rest of them and not even known it.

Grover was the only other student that Percy knew of who lived in a normal neighbourhood instead of something ritzy and upscale. They both were used to taking the subway to class while the rest of the student body pulled up in BMWs and Porsches. It felt like an irreversible change had been made by Percy accepting the limo ride to school. Like he was stepping off a cliff or onto a train he would never be able to stop.

Percy and Grover joined the wave of teenagers entering the building. He got a few funny looks and side comments about his new hair but for the most part, the first half of Percy’s day past without incident.

At Goode High, the timetable comprised eight classes a year and they followed the same schedule each day. Percy’s schedule was always: math, chemistry, biology, history, a break for lunch, and then gym, Spanish, study hall, and English. Because of his legs, Grover had a doctor’s note excusing him from PE for life so after lunch he headed to the music room while Percy set off toward the school gym.

When all the boys were changed into their grey and navy gym uniforms and assembled in the gym, Nunley wheeled a big cage of rubber dodge balls out of the equipment room. The gym teacher, Coach Nunley, had promised Percy’s class a game of dodgeball and the day before at the skatepark, Matt Sloan had promised to kill Percy.

Unlocking the equipment room was about the extent of Coach Nunley’s involvement in their classes. He usually preferred to sit on once of the benches with a magazine until class ended or someone broke a wrist. Which was exactly what he was doing when Sloan started the game.

Sloan said, “Coach, can I be captain?”

“Eh?” Coach Nunley looked up from his magazine. “Yeah, mm-hmm, sure.”

Sloan grinned and took charge of the picking. He made Percy the other team’s captain, but it didn’t matter who Percy picked, because all the jocks and the popular kids moved over to Sloan’s side.

Percy’s team included Corey Bailer the computer geek, Raj Mandali the calculus whiz, and half a dozen other kids who always got harassed by Sloan and his gang.

Matt Sloan spilled a cage full of balls in the middle of the gym and everyone scrambled. Sloan’s team immediately started hurling the rubber balls at them while Percy’s team generally cowered against the back wall. Only Percy and Corey went on the offensive.

Corey put up a good fight until he benched himself when a ball smacked him in the stomach and knocked the wind out of him.

Percy was pretty proud of himself for staying in the game as long as he had. He had even managed to take out a handful of Sloan’s teammates in the process despite his mediocre aim.

After a few minutes, both teams were down to only a few players each. Percy and Sloan stared each other down over the centre line. Most of the balls had been thrown over to Percy’s side (and taken out the majority of his team) which left Sloan unarmed.

Percy wound up and threw the ball at the middle of Sloan’s chest. His aim was off and the ball hit him right in the nose instead.

Sloan swore loudly, clutching his face. “Jackson! You are so dead for that! Did you see that, Coach? Percy did that on purpose!”

Coach Nunley had been dutifully reading his magazine, but just my luck—he chose that moment to look up when Sloan said his name. “Eh? Yeah. Mm-hmm.” He pointed Percy off the court. “No headshots. Bench.”

“Oh, come on!” Percy groaned. “It was an accident!”

That made Nunley put his magazine down entirely. “Don’t argue with the ref, son. You can head to the principal’s office instead.”

On his way to the office, Percy paused at the changing rooms to put his usual uniform back on. He was getting too many side-eyes with the new haircut for him to walk around in old gym shorts. Briefly, he considered skipping the principal’s office altogether but that would probably only land him in more trouble.

The secretary waved him through to wait in an uncomfortable chair outside the principal’s office.

Principal Dodds was a seriously scary lady. She was a little old lady from Georgia and dressed like she ran her own biker gang. The wrinkles in her face were so severe her skin looked like old leather.

“Come in, honey.”

“Why did Coach Nunley send you down here?”

Percy shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pants’ pockets. “I hit Matt Sloan in the face with a dodgeball in gym. It was an accident.”

“Hmm.” Mrs Dodds looked down at the pink detention slips in Percy’s file. “It looks like you’ve been having some trouble this year. Is there anything going on at home that I should know about?”

Geez, that was a question. _Yes, Mrs Dodds. My mom’s asshole boyfriend walked out on us and now we can barely afford rent. Then my deadbeat dad decided to send the half-brother I didn’t know I had halfway across the planet to tell me I’m a freaking_ prince _and give me a stupid haircut. So I’m a little stressed right now and my aim is terrible and I didn’t mean to hit Sloan in the face but even if I had he deserved it because he’s a tool._

“No, it’s fine.”

“I see. Well, honey, if there’s no reasonable explanation for your behaviour I’m afraid I’m going to have to give you another detention.” She didn’t look particularly sorry about it. “You’ll stay an extra two hours after school tomorrow in Mr Blofis’ room.”

***

Percy wasn’t sure what he had been expecting from his prince lessons but it definitely wasn’t sitting in a garden drinking tea.

He had been surprised when Luke had driven him not to the Plaza but to the Olympian Consulate.

It was only his third time using the limo but Luke had already stocked the mini-fridge with all of Percy’s favourites and a little metal bowl and some bottles of water for Mrs O’Leary. He had also fastened a fluffy seat cover on one of the benches that Percy assumed was for Mrs O’Leary to travel in style.

When they got to the consulate, the security guard buzzed the electric gates open and the limo glided down the drive. They pulled smoothly to a stop before a columned entrance. The building was huge, decorated in stone friezes and gold trim.

The same suit-clad security personnel directed them through the building to a garden courtyard. Thankfully, Luke seemed to know the way and guided Percy through the halls.

As they entered the garden, Luke faded into the background, leaving Percy on his own. The day was cloudy and the grass and shrubbery stood out an astonishing dark green. The sweet scent of flowers wafted through the air around them. What looked like three honest to goodness _footmen_ stood by, as well as a handful of security agents that Luke had joined, and Mellie hovered nearby with the ever-present tablet computer.

Triton sat at a table made of wrought iron twisted into intricate curves and topped with a perfectly round sheet of glass. He sipped from a little china teacup painted with intricate purple flowers. He set his teacup down as Percy approached.

“Good afternoon, Perseus. Please, have a seat.”

Percy sat. The spread in front of him looked far too delicate to be used. Wasn’t this the kind of thing people kept in glass cabinets?

Triton took a politely tiny bite of a scone. “How was your day at school?”

“Oh, um, it was good. The limo was cool.”

“Mm.” Triton sipped his tea and then replaced the teacup in its saucer. “Which courses are you taking?”

Was this small talk? Percy fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

“English, chem, history, gym, math, Spanish, and a study hall.”

“History? Is that world history? Ancient? European?”

“No, it’s just U.S history. George Washington, civil war, tea in the harbour, that kind of thing.”

“I see.” Triton leaned back in his chair. “That will be fine for the rest of this year. We will set up a private tutor until a decision is made for next year.”

Percy held his hands up. “Hey, I don’t need a tutor. I mean, I’m not a genius but–”

Triton was giving him that look again like Percy was the dumbest person he had ever met. “Your intelligence has nothing to do with it,” he said, as though it should be obvious. “You need to learn languages and Olympian history. You will not be instructed in those at your usual school.”

Triton cast his critical gaze over Percy one last time. “We will start with the basics, I suppose. Etiquette is for everyone, not only royalty, but it is especially important for us. Treating one another with civility is the very first step toward a fuller global understanding.”

That was probably a bit of a stretch.

“But as I said, we will start with the very basics.”

Percy swallowed. That sounded more like: _you’re already a disappointment. Here, let me stop you from making an even bigger fool of yourself._

“Walk, just here, for me.”

Percy stood and awkwardly walked halfway across the garden and back again. He was a little surprised by the sour look on his half-brother’s face.

Triton stood and approached him with his usual steady confidence. "When walking in a crowd,” he said, “you are constantly under scrutiny so don't _slump_ ," he pushed Percy's shoulders back. "Drop your shoulders, think tall..." he lifted Percy’s chin again with the crook of his finger and stepped back. “Again.”

Percy complied.

“A prince does not shuffle, skip, or saunter.” Percy got the feeling he was experiencing a word-for-word reiteration of some old nanny of Triton’s. “Imagine that there is a string coming out from the centre of your head, pulling you upwards. Again. When you are accompanied by a bodyguard, they will always be between yourself and the street. If you are accompanying a woman, you will be between her and the street– _Shoulders._ ” Triton shook his head at him and waved a hand to send him walking again. “They shouldn’t be _thrown_ back. You’re a prince, not a fighter pilot.”

They spent nearly half an hour practicing walking before they moved on to sitting. Percy felt bad for the footmen and security agents who still had to stand around the edge of the garden.

“In public,” said Triton, sitting across from Percy again, “royals never cross their legs, sit cross-legged, rest their knees or feet on the chair in front of them, sit on one foot, sit with their knees spread apart, sling their legs over an arm of their chair– _keep those hands out of your pockets._ ” Percy froze like a deer in headlights, his fingers halfway into thepockets of his jeans. “Keep your hands in your lap or on the table in front of you, it is rude to keep your hands hidden.

“But I think that will do for the day.”

Percy sagged with relief. His back and shoulders ached with the effort of holding a strictly correct posture. Thank God for that.

“I want you to practice sitting and standing straight in your classes and at meals. You will build the correct muscles and get used to it the more you practice. Tomorrow we will work on forms of address.”

“Tomorrow?” Percy repeated. “We’re doing this _every day_?”

Triton blinked at him. “Of course. We do not have much time until the ball. We cannot afford to meet less than once a day if you are going to be ready in time.”

Percy rubbed the back of his neck. “About that… I’ll be late tomorrow.”

“Why is that?”

“I’ve got detention.”

“ _Detention?_ ” Triton closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them and looked back at Percy, his gaze was hard. “What did you do?”

“Nothing! It was an accident. Hit a guy in the face in dodgeball. But now I’ve got to stay two hours late after school.”

“Fine. Mellie, do you have some paper?”

Mellie produced a little flip notepad and a pen from one of her pockets.

“Thank you.” Triton took both objects and started scrawling a list. “Since you will have so much extra time tomorrow, you can read up on these topics and we’ll discuss them later.”

“Did you miss the whole dyslexia memo? This is going to take forever.”

“Then it is a good thing that you have two hours of spare time to think. I am certain you can handle it.”

Percy couldn’t help but feel that he was way in over his head.


	4. Tuesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter this time because it's an uneventful day for Percy. The next one should be a bit more exciting!

Percy was the only one in detention the next day which made him feel extra bad. Was Mr Blofis staying back after school just for him or would he have been there anyway?

“You can do homework or read or whatever you like, Percy,” said Mr Blofis. “Just leave your phone in the basket at the front.”

Percy did, and sat at his usual desk in the middle of the classroom. He pulled a few books out of his backpack and the list Triton had written for him.

That morning, Luke had produced a few books on Olympia when he had picked Percy up for school. One was big heavy textbook and the other two looked like they were meant for elementary school kids or dumb tourists with their pictures and large fonts.

Percy really did not want to ask Mr Blofis for help but he had been staring at the same page of the textbook for a good ten minutes without making much headway. Words were swimming off the page, the letters doing one-eighties as if they were riding skateboards.

He slammed the book shut.

“Everything okay, Percy?”

My Blofis was watching him from his desk. He had a stack of papers he was grading in front of him marked with red ink.

Percy’s mom did keep telling him to ask for help…

“Why don’t I take a look?” Mr Blofis came around to Percy’s desk and pulled a chair up beside him. “What are we looking at?”

Would Mr Blofis be able to guess why Percy was studying Olympia? Probably not. No sane person would jump to the conclusion that Percy was actually a long lost prince.

“I’ve got this geography thing,” Percy lied, opening the book again. He indicated Triton’s list. “I need to read about all this stuff.”

“Looks like an interesting project.” Mr Blofis pulled up a chair. “Let’s get going then.”

Working with Mr Blofis wasn’t nearly as embarrassing as Percy had predicted. He had produced a line reader from his desk to help stop the words on the page from going on their usual swimming trip. When he could take it one word at a time, it was way easier to pick out the familiar ones and decipher the new ones.

“The royal family of Olympia,” Percy read aloud, “can trace its lineage back to… Alexander the Great of… M– Macedon. Alexander the Great had only one… legit…imate child with his wife Princess R-Roxana. This child, Alexander the… IV, was once long thought to be… a– a– _assassinated_ at the age of thirteen. …However, in the late 1960s, new evidence revealed that Alexander the IV survived the… assassination attempt in 309 BCE and lived to adulthood in hiding. With current DNA testing technology, it is possible that the royal family will further… s–solid…ify these ties to the ancient ruler. In the… aftermath of World War One, the North Eastern p-provinces of Greece declared their… independence from Greece and formed one… unified nation under the rule of Queen–”

“Queen Gaea,” Mr Blofis supplied.

“One unified nation under the rule of Queen Gaea known as Olympia. Today, Olympia is a small country to the Northeast of Greece and borders the… eh– a– _Aegean_ Sea to the south and… Bulgaria and Macedonia to the north as well as Turkey to the east. It also shares a southern border with Greece and… Albania is to the west. Being largely coastal, much of Olympia’s income is sourced from fishing and… c-controlling trade coming by ship to landlocked countries like Macedonia and… Serbia. There is a large annual number of tourists and many cruises dock at Olympia’s beaches. Olympia is widely considered to be a liberal country and boasts some of the best literacy, infant mortality, and employment rates in Europe.”

When Percy had made it through a couple of paragraphs, they wrote short bullet points of things he actually wanted to remember. By the end of detention, they had finished almost everything on Triton’s list.

“Thanks for your help,” said Percy as Mr Blofis returned his phone to him.

“No problem, Percy. That’s what I’m here for.”

Luke was waiting for Percy a block away from school, as requested, to take him to Triton’s prince lessons.

As soon as they arrived at the Plaza’s penthouse, Percy was greeted with solemn "Mr Jackson"s and "welcome, sir”s. It was pretty disconcerting to have everyone always watching him like he was reality T.V. It always felt like they were expecting him to give a speech or do a backflip or something.

Triton was waiting for him in the penthouse’s sitting room. He had a pile of official-looking documents in his lap that Percy hoped had nothing to do with that day’s lessons.

“Good afternoon, Perseus.”

“Hey, Triton.”

Triton’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

Right. They had talked about that yesterday. _Whoever holds the highest rank sets the tone for the conversation._ Strike one less than five minutes in. Good job, Percy. But he and Triton were brothers so they should have been equals. He remembered that from their lessons too. Maybe Triton was just being extra stuffy because of the detention.

Triton gestured at one of the cream coloured armchairs. “Have a seat.” When Percy did, Triton set aside the pile of papers on an end table. “Did you read up on the subjects I requested?”

“Yeah,” said Percy, “I got through most of the history stuff.”

“Good, we’ll start there today.”

They discussed the broadest topics in Olympian history for the better part of an hour. When room service arrived with a tray of tea and scones, Triton changed the subject to languages. Percy was expected to continue his Spanish at school (even though he wasn’t exactly top of the class) and begin learning Greek as well since it was the official language of Olympia.

Their lessons continued in mostly the same way for a week without incident. Some were more discussions than actual classes. Some involved practical skills like how to execute the perfect bow. Percy memorized the correct forms of address for any imaginable member of the aristocracy, learned when to bow and to whom, who he could expect to curtsy or bow to him, and so on. They practiced his own introduction (“Hello, I am Perseus, Prince of Olympia.”) and the correct strength of grip for a handshake. They drank endless cups of tea and Percy studied table settings and proper dining etiquette for any meal of the day.

It was even more boring than history class. At least in history there were battles and stuff. In his prince lessons, Percy could only expect quality tea time with his new bestest buddy Triton.


	5. Wednesday

After that first week, Percy was starting to settle into his new routine. He was still almost always late for school but Luke always had some breakfast like fruit or muffins in the limo when he picked him up in the mornings. Mrs O’Leary loved her new seat covers and was happy to nap on her way to and from daycare. Grover got accustomed to a morning limo ride and Rachel had never really thought it was out of the ordinary since she was used to her life of luxury. Luke still parked a block away from the school at Percy’s request and collected him from the same spot to drive him to the Plaza for lessons with Triton. No one would ever see a royal limo in close proximity to the gates of Goode High.

Until the following Wednesday morning.

On that day, Grover and Percy stopped in their tracks outside the school gates. The lawn was flooded with a crowd of people shouting over each other and pushing.

“What is going on?” Percy asked.

Grover shrugged. “Maybe it's a protest.”

“Maybe.” Something about the crowd gave Percy a bad feeling. Why were there so many cameras?

“Uh excuse me,” said Grover, tapping the nearest person on the shoulder. “Who are you waiting for?”

“There he is right there!” someone shouted from the crowd. Immediately, everyone turned, their camera lenses fixed on Percy.

“Percy Jackson!”

Before Percy could register what was happening, he was completely surrounded. Grover disappeared from his side, swallowed by the crowd. Percy held a hand up to shield his eyes from the flashing lights.

“Right here!” Someone shouted. “TaIk to me!”

“Your Highness! Look here!”

Then an arm was around his shoulders. Percy flinched at the contact, trying to wriggle out of whoever’s grip.

“Percy, hey, relax,” a familiar voice said in his ear. “We’ll get you out of here.”

Mr Blofis? Percy squinted up, spots dancing across his vision. Mr Blofis had one arm around Percy’s shoulder and was shoving reporters out of the way with the other. Percy ducked his head to hide his face from the cameras.

“Your Highness! Who's your favourite actor?”

They were at the front steps now. Just twenty feet from the door. Fifteen. Ten.

“Prince Percy, how does it feel to find out you were abandoned at birth by your rich white father?”

“Perseus, look over here!”

Five feet.

“Prince Perseus, do you think they didn’t acknowledge you before now because you’re mixed race?”

“What’s the first thing you’re going to buy with all the money you’re going to have, Your Highness?”

The front doors closed behind them with a slam. Two of the janitors were waiting at the front entrance and threw their collective weight against the doors to hold them shut against the oncoming wave of reporters. Mr Blofis’ arm immediately dropped from Percy’s shoulders.

“Thanks,” Percy breathed.

Mr Blofis gave him a curious look. “Of course, Percy, anytime. But I have to ask: what is going on here? I saw that article in the _Post_ …”

A chill settled in the pit of Percy’s stomach. “What article?

Mr Blofis scanned the school lobby. A discarded newspaper stuck out of the top of a recycling bin. Mr Blofis grabbed it and handed it to Percy. “Here.”

The headline read: _New York’s Very Own Prince Charming?_

“Oh no,” Percy groaned. “This is not happening!”

_It’s a fairytale come true for one lucky New York kid. Perseus Jackson is the son of local woman Sally Jackson and His Majesty King Poseidon of Olympia. The prince currently attends Goode High School, a local private school–_

Percy met eyes with Mr Blofis. “This isn’t a joke, is it? It’s not senior prank day or something?”

Mr Blofis gave him a sympathetic look. He tapped the newspaper Percy was holding. “ _That_ is poor journalism, I can tell you that. But no, this is not a joke.”

Percy looked down at the paper again. Next to the article was a photo of himself with his hands in his pockets, a plastic bag from the corner store on his wrist, and Mrs O’Leary’s leash in the other hand. He wasn’t looking at the camera. Someone must have taken it the previous night when he’d gone out to pick up milk and snacks. It must have been taken just down the street from his apartment with one of those super creepy long-lens cameras. The picture wasn’t that bad but it was freaky to think that someone had been watching him when he hadn’t known.

“…and I’ve called your mother–”

Percy looked up. He hadn’t registered that Mr Blofis was still talking. “What?”

Mr Blofis blinked. “I called your mother to let her know what’s happened. There wasn’t any answer on your home phone–” That made sense, she was working the opening shift again. “–but I got through on her cell. She said to tell you that she and your brother will be here as soon as possible.”

Percy frowned. “How do you have my mom’s cell number?”

Mr Blofis faltered. “Oh. It’s on your school information card.”

“No, it isn’t,” said Percy. “She didn’t have that phone when we registered.” After Gabe had broken her old one, Sally hadn’t been able to get a new phone until after Percy had started school.

“Maybe we should wait until your mom is here to talk about this.”

“Or you could tell me the truth.”

One of the reporters banged loudly on the door. Mr Blofis cast the entrance a nervous glance and drew Percy down the hallway towards to the main office. “Percy, the truth is, your mother and I have been seeing each other. Socially.”

It took Percy a moment to realize what Mr Blofis was saying.

“You mean,” he said, “you’ve gone on a date?”

Mr Blofis nodded.

“With my mother?”

He nodded again.

Percy tugged the ends of his hair. “ _Geez_. God, I do not need this today.”

Mr Blofis glanced nervously down the hallway stretching out away from them in both directions. “Let’s get you into the main office. It’ll be safer there.”

Percy had been sent to sit in her office more times than he wanted to admit but this time, things felt different.

“You might have mentioned this,” said Mrs Dodds, glaring at Percy over her desk, “the last time you were in here and I asked if there was something going on at home.”

Percy fiddled with the backpack at his feet.

“No one was supposed to find out.”

Mrs Dodds raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t making it easy for me to be on your side, honey. You have had a penchant for trouble since you started at this school.”

Percy chewed the inside of his lip. _Don’t lose your cool_ , he told himself.

“I’m telling the truth,” he insisted. “I only found out like a week ago. I was trying to stop something like this from happening!”

“Humph.” Mrs Dodds eyed him with great suspicion.

The door to the office opened and Percy turned in his seat to look. Triton stood in the doorway, with Mellie and Luke just behind. Percy didn’t think he had ever been so glad to see them.

“I don’t know who told on me,” he said immediately. “I didn’t tell anyone, I swear.”

“I know,” said Triton. His voice was calm, collected, like even an earthquake couldn’t shake him. “We will get to the bottom of this.”

“Where’s my mom?” asked Percy. “Mr Blofis said he called her.”

“I told her not to come,” Triton said nonchalantly. He swept into the room and came to stand just to the side of the desk between Percy and Mrs Dodds. “We deal with the press every single day and we will do it today. Luke, would you take…” he glanced at the plaque at the front of the desk, “Mrs Dodds and show her your security plans for Perseus’ safety?”

“Yes, sir,” said Luke, “of course.”

Mrs Dodds lips pressed into an even thinner line.

Luke gestured for the door. Mrs Dodds looked between the four of them – even Mellie – as if they were suspected of plotting to steal the school’s basketball league trophy. Then she rose from her desk with very little grace and allowed Luke to usher her out of the office.

Triton settled himself in Mrs Dodds’ vacated chair.

Percy straightened in his seat under his gaze. He really did not want a repeat of the previous week’s lecture on the importance of correct posture. It didn’t feel like they were brothers at all. More like Triton was his boss or another teacher who would give him detention if they thought he was slacking off.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Percy admitted. “A week ago, I was a normal kid. But now…”

“You have never been ‘normal’,” Triton corrected, “you were born royal, you and the rest of the world just didn’t know it yet.”

“What if I don't even want to represent a whole country? I just want to pass the tenth grade! Can’t you tell everyone that I quit or something?”

“No one can quit being who they really are. You can refuse the job and abdicate like Uncle Hades when you’re older but you are a prince by birth.”

“How do I even know if I can do the job?”

Triton shrugged. “You try. The ball is only a few weeks away now, we will see how you do then. Father was going to announce you then anyway but now there is no need since the press has done it for him, it will just be a more formal introduction.”

Percy was still doubtful. He still hadn’t mastered all of the table manners Triton had been trying to drill into him. How was he supposed to manage a ball with fancy people and a new country and, oh God, _dancing?_

“We will continue our preparation for it in your lessons. As for today, the reporters have been pushed back to the street and Luke will begin duties as your full-time bodyguard. He will be accompanying you to all classes and–”

“Whoa, what?” Percy shook his head. “He can’t follow me to class.”

Triton hardened his gaze. “I’m afraid that it is non-negotiable.”

“I don’t need a bodyguard for school. What’s going to happen?”

“Anything could happen! Perseus, you are second in line to the Olympian throne, there is every chance that someone will try to harm you.”

“Oh, come on. No one can even find Olympia on a map, never mind pick me out of a lineup.”

Triton held up a hand. “This is not up for discussion. You agreed to fulfill your role as prince until our Independence Day Ball and that includes allowing Luke to protect you. I will hold you to your word.”

Great. As if he wasn’t enough of a laughingstock already, he now had an armed escort. His day was just getting better and better. His face plastered across the _New York Post_ , his English teacher was dating his mom, and, the cherry on top of the cake, his very own babysitter. Perfect.

Percy wrinkled his nose. “I don’t even want to be at school today,” he said. “I’ll just take the day off.”

“You will not,” Triton countered. “Princes do not run from a crisis. You will stay at school and handle this situation with as much dignity as you can manage.” Percy resisted the urge to stick his tongue out just to prove his point. “I will speak to this reporter, whoever they are, and see just who their source is.”

Percy took the dismissal for what it was and rose from his seat. Triton eyed him as he went to the door.

“I hope you’ll have a better attitude by this afternoon.”

Percy chose not to dignify that with a response and left, slamming the door behind him with as little princely politeness as he could manage.

Luke was waiting for him outside the door. He wore his usual suit and James Bond earpiece and stood with his hands behind his back. When Percy walked past him down the hall, Luke followed two steps behind.

Percy rolled his eyes and turned back to him. “I can take care of myself,” he said. “I’ve been doing just fine on my own.”

“Of course, sir,” said Luke. It was so weird having someone older than him call him “sir” but it was even weirder when that person wasn’t that much older than himself.

“God,” Percy muttered, “this is gonna suck, isn’t it?”

“I’ll be discreet, sir,” Luke assured him.

As it turned out, it didn’t really matter how discreet Luke was.

Before that morning, no one at Percy’s school had ever heard of Olympia. Nobody famous came there. Nobody who was born there had ever invented anything, or wrote anything, or starred in a Netflix series. From his lessons with Triton, Percy knew that a ton of Olympians had fought against the Nazis in World War II but other than that it was like the history books had forgotten them completely. Now it seemed like everyone at Goode High was obsessed with it.

At lunch, Percy, Grover and Rachel sat at their usual table with Luke taking up a seat beside Percy. Everybody in the cafeteria – including the chess club, who never noticed anything – was staring at them.

Reporters must have continued to arrive at the school all morning. They’d been trying to interview all the kids who go to Goode, asking them if they knew who this mysterious Percy Jackson was. For once, being so unpopular was paying off.

“Geez, Percy,” Grover was saying, “I kinda wish you’d told me about this. Is this why you’ve been acting so weird lately? Will you come on our podcast? Your hashtag’ll really help with the views.”

“What hashtag?” Percy asked, picking at his French fries. “I’ll come on the show but I don’t think anyone’s looking me up enough for it to really help.”

Rachel scoffed and tossed her red hair back from her shoulder. “Are you kidding?”

She pulled out her iPhone and opened the Twitter app. In the search bar, she typed #princepercy. She handed the phone to Percy who immediately started scrolling through the tweets. Grover leaned over the table and read them aloud beside him.

_who i gotta do to be the richest kid in New York? #princepercy_

_#princepercy ’s jawline could literally cut me . . . and I’d like it_

_the real question is WHAT’S HIS DOG’S NAME #princepercy_

_my long-lost sugar daddy can show up any minute now #princepercy_

_who at @GoodeHigh wanna hook me up with #princepercy ?_

“Are you kidding me?” Percy dropped the phone back on to the plastic tabletop. “This is so embarrassing.”

Grover sat back down. “You being a prince is kind of a miracle, dude.”

“What miracle? It's a nightmare.” Percy buried his head in his hands. “No one was ever even supposed to find out!”

“Think about it Percy,” Grover insisted. “The podcast only reaches like twelve people. How are we going to fight climate change with those numbers? Wanting to change the world, but having no power, _that's_ a nightmare. But you– Wow!”

Percy grumbled and stabbed a French fry with the bamboo fork Grover had given him at the start of the freshman year. “What is so ‘wow’?”

“ _Wow_ is having the power to change things,” Rachel pointed out. “You can make people listen. How many teenagers have that power? What more of a miracle do you want?”

“We’ll have to find a different miracle,” said Percy. “Because I don’t want to do _this_.” He gestured around at the students watching them. Grover’s face fell. “Listen, guys… I should’ve told you about all this stuff but I wasn’t supposed to say anything. But in a few weeks, there’s this ball thing in Olympia and I’m officially inviting you. Free vacation. There’ll be a bunch of people there you can pitch your environmental protection program to.”

Grover’s face lit up. “Really, Percy? You mean it?”

“‘Course, G-man.”

“Are you even allowed to invite people?” Rachel asked doubtfully.

Percy shrugged and slouched a bit in his seat. Some of the upperclassmen girls were trying to snap pictures of him.

“They owe me after all this. If they want me there, you guys have to come too.”

Rachel perked up. “Is the ball at the palace? Did you know their art collection is worth, like, three hundred million US or something ridiculous?”

“I wonder how much of that was amassed by taking advantage of the lower class,” said Grover. “With the economy today it’s kind of dumb for anyone to have three hundred million dollars – especially someone who never did a day’s work for it. They could stop world hunger or something instead.”

“Hey,” Rachel held her hands up in a gesture of peace, “you’re preaching to the choir here. But it’s not like _Percy_ can just go start hawking paintings at the flea market so we might as well appreciate them while we’re there. Art is important for more than just cash, you know.”

Across the cafeteria, Percy could see a group he vaguely recognized from his homeroom. They were whispering to each other, giggling, and trying to take pictures of him on their phones without him noticing.

Percy had had enough. “I gotta go.”

He stood from the table and Luke followed suit, abandoning his half-finished meal. Percy felt kind of bad for making him miss his lunch but he couldn’t sit there being gawked at like a zoo animal anymore.

“Sir,” Luke hedged as Percy headed to his locker, “I believe your brother said you’re supposed to stay at school today.”

“Yeah? Well, Triton can shove it. I’m going home. You can stay here or come too, your choice.”

Percy didn’t check to see if Luke was following or not when he headed to the front of the school. He didn’t need to, because he could hear him muttering into his James Bond earpiece as they walked. He hoped Luke was just calling for the car and not tattling on him to Triton already.

When Percy pushed the front door open and stepped out into the midday sun, the reporters immediately rushed forward. They waved their microphones, flashed their cameras and yelled things like “Percy, how about a smile?” and “Percy, what’s it like to wake up one morning the product of a single-parent family and go to bed a royal prince worth over three hundred million dollars?”.

Even if Percy had wanted to, he couldn’t have answered their questions because he had no idea which microphone to talk into. Besides the fact that he was almost rendered blind by all the flashbulbs going off in his face.

Luke sprang into action.

“Don’t say anything,” he ordered.

He put his arm around Percy, tucking him in tightly to his side. Percy ducked his head and allowed himself to be steered through the crowd. Luke cleared a path, elbowing and pushing any stubborn reporters out of the way. They barrelled through all the cameras and microphones and the people attached to them until the next thing Percy knew, Luke was pushing him into the backseat of the limo and jumping in after him.

As soon as Luke slammed the back door shut, he said, “Drive.”

The guy behind the wheel hit the gas. Percy didn’t recognize the new driver. He wore a similar suit to Luke’s but he was about three times Luke’s size. The tires squealed as they peeled out into the street.

Percy buried his face in his hands. He had thought he was actually doing well for a while. He actually _liked_ being under the radar. Would his whole life have to change now? From the flashbulbs they’d left in the dust and that one reporter who had tried to jump on the windshield to get a better shot, he thought so. He didn’t want to be HRH Prince Perseus, he was just Percy.

God, his mom was going to be so worried. His mom! He hadn’t even considered her until then. There would be reporters all around Grand Central Station hounding her too. Hopefully, she’d have gone home when she got the calls from Mr Blofis and Triton.

His thoughts turned sour when he thought of Mr Blofis. He had other stuff to talk to his mom about too.

Sally was sitting on the couch in the living room when he walked in. She had changed out of her work uniform into jeans and a pink knitted sweater. She cradled a mug of coffee in both hands.

“You left school early today,” she observed when Percy entered.

He shrugged. “I didn’t miss much. Spanish, Gym, study hall, English.”

“English and Spanish are important, Percy. Are you still seeing that tutor? I’m sure Mr Blofis would be more than happy to help you if you just asked him.”

“I bet he would.”

“Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Mom, I know, okay? Mr Blofis told me.”

“Oh.” She didn’t look altogether shocked. Percy had expected more mollifying explanations than just ‘oh’.

”How does anyone go into a parent-teacher conference and come out with a date?” he demanded. “He's not even a person, he's a teacher. They're aliens!"

His mom set her mug of coffee on the side table. "Percy," she said in her stop-being-dramatic voice, ”Mr Blofis isn't married, he's not living with anyone. Plus he's not pierced, tattooed, or hair-plugged. Do you realize how rare that is these days?"

"Did it ever cross your mind that if you dated one of my teachers it would give literally everyone license to mock me for the rest of my life?"

Sally sighed. "No, you're right. I didn't, and I'm sorry. It's just that Paul– Mr Blofis, is such a nice man. He's a real gentleman… and I haven't met one of those in a long, long time.”

“What, since my dad you mean?”

She laughed a little. “Maybe. It has been a while.”

“Did dad always want to be a prince?”

Sally considered for a moment. Then, “Yes, he did. Except for a little while about fifteen years ago I think he seriously considered renouncing his title.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because you were born, Percy. He’s always been an idealist. I don’t pretend to know what was happening between he and his wife at the time, but he spent Christmas with me and had all of these plans for a life for us with you. He had a big decision to make and nobody could make it for him. He knew that his brothers didn’t want the job and he felt that it was his responsibility to step up. He… he realized, or so he told me, that the love he could have for one person – or even two – could not make him forget the love he has for his country or for his wife and first child.”

“Sounds like a dick.”

His mom sighed. “I know he might seem that way. I’m not his number one fan either, you know. It’s up to you how much you want him in your life. But I think that you deserve to know all the facts now and that if you meet him in person you might be surprised how you feel.”

“We've never needed him before now,” Percy pointed out.

“I’m not arguing with you, Percy. Like I said, it’s up to you if you want to be involved with him, but I think that you owe it to yourself to at least meet him. You do have more relatives on his side of the family, you know. You could meet them. You’ve never had cousins before.”

That was true. His mom’s parents had died when she was young so Percy had never had any aunts or uncles. Maybe he would like having cousins.

“I don’t know how I feel about that.”

Sally shrugged and picked up her coffee again. “I was going to ask you if you were okay,” she said, “before you started your interrogation.”

Percy winced. “Sorry, Mom.”

“You’re stressed,” she allowed, and took a sip of her coffee. “Now stop being so uptight and come sit down. _Drag Race_ is on.”

Percy let himself grin and dropped onto the couch beside her.

Even if Luke and his team of lookalikes in the black suits were scurrying around the building, maybe things didn’t have to _completely_ change. Even if he was out as a prince now, he could still hang out with his mom and watch reality tv and that counted for a lot.


	6. Thursday

The next day the front steps were even busier. Normally, the morning news would be reporting overturned trucks or hostage situations but now Percy was the disaster of the morning. Besides the swarming reporters, there was an honest to goodness tour group waiting for the limo to pull up.

Luke stepped out of the limo first and made enough of a barrier that Percy could pull himself out of the car. Then he took Percy by the arm and blocked him from the reporter’s view as much as possible as they followed the sidewalk to the doors.

As they passed the tour group, something made Percy dig in his heels.

Luke stared at him and gave him an insistent tug. “Your Highness…” he warned. Percy winced at the title.

The tour group was all kids. They must have come from the elementary school down the street. In the front of the group was a little girl in a hot pink wheelchair. Her red hair was pulled back in two curly red pigtails and her face was covered in little freckles. She looked kind of like Rachel.

“Here he is,” the tour guide was saying. “This is the new Prince of Olympia here, that’s right. Does anyone know where Olympia is? Anyone?”

“It's next to Greece!” yelled one kid. “That was a question on _Jeopardy_.”

Some of the kids were starting to crowd around Percy and the press retreated a couple of steps to flash pictures of them all.

“Okay, back up everyone,” said Luke, clearly less inclined to shove kids out of his way. “Let’s go. The prince is late for school.”

"Could you sign my backpack?” It was the same boy that had answered the question about Olympia.

The little red-headed girl moved herself a bit closer. “May l have your autograph, please?” she asked.

Percy gave Luke a pleading look and Luke looked between him and the kids warily. “Two minutes,” he said. “That’s it.”

Percy crouched to eye level with the little girl. “Hi,” he said, accepting the fluffy pen and purple sparkly notebook. “What's your name?”

“Mia.”

“Mia? That’s a nice name.”

Percy scribbled his messy signature across one page of the notebook. When he handed it back to her, the girl beamed at him.

The boy he had seen earlier elbowed his way to the front.

“What's your name?”

He puffed out his chest a little. “Joseph,” he said proudly. “Will you take a picture with me?”

“Sure.” Percy took the offered phone, held it at arm's length, and they pressed their heads close together for a selfie.

As Percy handed the phone back, Luke tapped him on the shoulder.

This time, they sprinted through the crowd to the front doors and Percy let Luke steer him all the way. As they ran, people shouted stuff like, "Percy, who do you like better, Taylor Swift or Jennifer Lawrence?" and “Your Highness, what are your opinions on climate change?”. Percy would have told them to talk to Grover or Rachel instead but he didn’t get the chance.

The rest of the school day passed without incident. Trends went quickly and most of the other students had already moved on from filming and photographing him, and Sloan just ignored him in P.E. His detentions were over so he even made it to prince lessons on time.

***

“Manners are important,” Triton was saying that afternoon at the Plaza, “but that is enough etiquette for today.” He stood from the plush couch. “You will be expected to participate at the Independence Day Ball so we will prepare you for that now.”

Percy did not like the sound of that. “You know that makes it sound like you’re going to sacrifice me to a dark god, right?”

Triton rolled his eyes. "Don’t be so dramatic. It’s just dancing.” _Dancing?!_ “Mellie? Could you step in for a moment?”

Mellie immediately appeared in the doorway to the sitting room. Her usual tablet computer was absent. She picked up a little remote from the side table and clicked on the stereo in the corner. Soft classical music drifted from the speakers.

“Have you ever learned to dance before?” Triton asked.

Percy gave him a look like, _what do you think?_

“This one is very simple,” Mellie assured him.

“This dance is… something between a waltz and a tango, you see?”

“It's a wango?”

Triton glared at him. “You start with a bow,” he said, demonstrating.

Mellie curtsied delicately and took Triton’s offered hand. He placed a hand gently on Mellie's waist and held her hand in the other. Mellie, in turn, put a hand on his shoulder and paused, waiting for him to lead her.

"This one _is_ simple," said Triton, looking over to Percy, "you mostly stay in place.”

He took small revolving steps, slowly turning himself and Mellie in a small circle.

"When the music rises," said Triton, the music changing slightly in the background, "you have eight counts until it changes. Then the girl spins out," Mellie did so, "and back into you."

Delicately, Mellie twirled back in so she had her back to Triton’s chest, holding his hand again. Then she pulled away and Triton turned her, returning them to their original positions.

Triton released Mellie and she smiled at him as he turned to face Percy. "Your turn.”

Percy’s stomach dropped down to his converse high tops. He had about three left feet and Mellie was looking at him all expectantly.

 _Here goes nothing._ He took a deep breath and took Mellie’s hand.

***

Percy’s mom was home when he got back from prince lessons that night. She still wore her work uniform and sat on the couch with her eyes fixed on the screen. The room around her was dark, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside where the window blinds had yet to be closed and the blue light of the television.

“Mom?”

Sally barely glanced at him. She had her arms wrapped around herself as she perched on the very edge of the sofa. Something on the screen had her transfixed. Mrs O’Leary lay curled in a ball of black fur at her feet.

Percy dropped his backpack at the door and went to sit shoulder to shoulder with his.

The TV was playing an evening talk show. A familiar gossip news anchor with perfectly curled strawberry blonde hair sat on a comfy-looking red sofa and across from her…

Was Gabe Ugliano.

Gabe had put on weight since Percy had last seen him. He looked like a tusk-less walrus in thrift-store clothes. He still only had about three hairs on his head, all combed over his bald scalp as if that made him handsome or something.

“And we are back,” said the smiling anchor. “I’m Sugar Westos and we are here with Gabriel Ugliano, the stepfather of New York’s very own prince charming, His Royal Highness Prince Perseus of Olympia. Mr. Ugliano, what else can you tell us about the Prince?”

“Well I’ve known the little brat since he was a kid,” said Gabe. “Taught him how to throw a ball, he–” he wiped a fake tear, “–he’s always been like a son to me. After his mom left me I was heartbroken. She took everything from me, you know? My stepson, the TV, all our stuff. I tried everything to get Percy back but no one listens to the guy with these things.”

Percy jammed the power button on the remote with his thumb. “That bastard!” He pulled his mom into a hug. “Don’t listen to it, mom. He’s a liar. Everyone’ll see right through it. You’ll see.”


	7. Friday

Everyone did not see through it.

The next day the tabloids were plastered with headlines like: “Percy Kidnapped as a Child?” and “Shocking Custody Coverup!”. But the worst came when Percy arrived at school. This time he had been expecting the crowds of reporters and paparazzi – the story from last night had been just too juicy for them to pass up.

“Hey Percy!”

Percy made the mistake of pausing. They didn’t usually use his nickname and it surprised him. Three guys in dark jeans and hoodies with huge cameras around their necks were shoulder to shoulder behind him and Luke.

“Do you have anything to say about your stepdad’s interview?”

“Does your mother feel guilty for abandoning him?”

Percy ground his teeth. “You really want to stop talking.”

Luke had a hand on his shoulder and pulled him slightly in the direction of the school.

“Come on, Your Highness, did she ever consider how much it would damage you to leave your dad?”

“He’s. Not. My. Dad.”

“Sir, we need to go.”

Percy allowed Luke to lead him a few short steps away but then–

“Has she always been selfish?”

“Yeah, what made her such a bitch?”

Percy whirled around. He couldn’t tell which guy had said it and he didn’t care. He stormed four forceful paces to the nearest of the three and threw a punch.

The camera shutters went off anew in a flurry of light. The reporter howled, hands over his nose, blood streaming down his chin. The crowd was yelling, shoving microphones at Percy more aggressively than ever. Luke seized Percy around the middle and dragged him through the crowd, pushing and shoving cameramen out of his way as they went.

The school foyer was shockingly quiet compared to the uproar outside. A few students were milling about on their way to the lockers including Rachel who was perched on a windowsill looking out on the crowd outside. When Luke hauled Percy inside, everyone gave them funny looks. Everyone had mostly gotten used to the reporters outside but Percy wasn’t usually being manhandled around the building.

“That was classy,” Rachel remarked as Luke released Percy. “You know they _wanted_ that kind of reaction, right?”

Percy scowled at Luke and hiked his backpack onto his shoulder properly. “I’d have given them more of a reaction,” he growled.

Luke didn’t deign to retort but he did carefully place himself between Percy and the doors.

Percy leaned against the nearest wall and closed his eyes. How could he screw up so badly? A few weeks ago, he was just a normal kid. Now he had his face and fists plastered across the _New York Post_ and his name all over the internet.

He knew he shouldn’t have done it. The first thing Luke would do was call his mom and she’d be all worried. He hated making his mom worry. But God damn it that guy had deserved more than a broken nose. Where did he get off slinging names about Percy’s mom?

“It isn’t your fault, you know?” Percy pried open one eye and looked at Rachel who was scrolling on her phone. “They shouldn’t be harassing you so much,” she continued, still looking like she was only half paying attention. “They’re only here because the street outside is public property. It’s the only place they can legally get this close to you.”

Rachel clicked the lock button on her phone and slid it into her blazer pocket. “I bet they got a good picture of that,” she jerked her chin at the doors, “and you’re going to be in shit for it, so maybe try to keep your head down today.”

That day Percy was the first one to his English class for the first time in his high school career.

Mr Blofis leaned against his desk at the front of the room with Percy standing in front of him, backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Percy, I hope you aren’t uncomfortable about my seeing your mother socially.”

Percy adjusted the bag on his shoulder. “I’d be lying if I said I’m totally cool with it but… I guess it doesn’t really bug me too much.”

“If it bothers you,” said Mr Blofis, “we can talk about it. You know my door’s always open.”

Percy shrugged. “I mean, it’s just one date, right?”

Mr Blofis coughed awkwardly. “Well, Percy, I don’t know if it is just going to be one date. I really like your mother.”

“You better,” Percy blurted, “because if you do anything to hurt her, I’ll kick your ass.”

He felt all the blood rush to his face. Had he really just said that out loud the same day he had punched a total stranger in the street?

Mr Blofis actually smiled. “I have no intention of hurting your mom, but if I ever do, you have my permission to kick my ass. Now I hope you studied hard for your quiz. I don’t play favourites.”

It didn’t matter how much Percy had studied (because he _had,_ dammit). The quiz did not go well.

Each tick of the clock reverberated as a _clang_ in Percy’s skull. The scratching of pencils against paper grated on his ears.

Percy stared at the stapled quiz booklet in front of him. He had gotten as far as writing his name and the date in the top right corner. The first question was a multiple choice, which was normally a better option for his dyslexia. Percy had spent the first half of the allowed time deciphering the questions themselves and could make out the first one as: _In whose history of Denmark did Shakespeare find background material for his play?_

The answers were a different story. Names were always a battle for him but the names good ol’ Willy Shakes used were a nightmare. Guessing from context? Not so easy when half the names were a glorified word scramble. The letters seemed to float up off the page and swirl themselves around like they each had their own personal we-hate-Percy rollercoaster.

_A) Octopus of Thames_

He was pretty sure had never once been mentioned in _Hamlet_.

_B) Farn Gooberhasen_

Yes, brain, that is very helpful. Why, thank you for your cooperation. His dyslexia seemed to get worse when he was stressed. Was that a thing? Or just his imagination?

Percy huffed and shifted in his plastic chair. The class’s alphabetical seating plan put Percy’s seat right in the centre of the classroom. An air conditioning vent was directly overhead which never seemed to let him be exactly comfortable. Mr. Blofis’ desk was in the front corner of the classroom between the window and the blackboard so every time the teacher looked up, Percy was the first thing in his line of sight. It was off-putting to be, literally, the centre of attention.

He twiddled his pencil between his fingers in agitation, adding the _tap tap tap_ of the ferrule against the desk to the percussion in his head.

Flick.

Heads rose across the classroom as Percy’s pencil spun across the room and hit the far wall.

At his desk, Mr. Blofis lifted his head from his marking. “Everyone’s eyes on their own quiz, please.”

Percy slouched a little in his seat as Mr. Blofis’ eyes trained themselves on him. Mr. Blofis wasn’t his favourite teacher, but Percy disliked him the least. He didn’t give Percy detention when he zoned out in class and he always offered to give him extra tutoring – not that Percy had ever actually accepted the invitation to the after school study group.

Percy glanced sideways at the Grover sitting next to him but he was absorbed in his own quiz.

“That’s time,” announced Mr. Blofis. “Pass your booklets to the front. If there is no name on the front I will not be marking it! I have an unreasonably long 'to watch’ list on Netflix, and no time to waste matching handwriting. Now, moving on from Shakespeare to our current events unit. Can anyone tell me anything about the upcoming UN meeting this week–”

A beep sounded throughout the classroom as the intercom crackled to life.

 _Mr Blofis?_ came the garbled voice over the intercom.

“Yes?”

_Sorry for the interruption, is Percy Jackson in class today?_

“He is.”

_Could you send him down to the main office, please? His brother is here to see him._

Furtive whispers broke out across the classroom.

Mr Blofis caught Percy’s eye and gave him a nod. “He’s on his way.”

There was a soft click as the intercom connection was cut. Percy was already sliding his books and pencil case into his backpack.

Grover sent him a look like, _everything okay, dude?_

Percy shrugged. Everything was almost certainly not okay but there wasn’t anything he could really do about it.

Rachel had been right about him being in trouble. Percy didn’t know exactly how Triton had found out so quickly. There was no way a story about him had already been published so Luke had probably tattled on him.

Triton was again sitting at Mrs Dodds’ desk when Percy got to the office. He was directed into the same chair he had occupied when his identity had first been leaked and Luke, who had followed him from English, stayed outside. The silence hung heavy in the air like a bad smell while Triton stared him down and Percy resolutely refused to look at him.

“Please say something,” Percy muttered.

“There's not much to say,” said Triton. He sounded annoyed but also a little satisfied that he had won their silence contest. “A picture is worth a thousand words and you have an entire _Snapchat_ story.”

“So I embarrassed the family, huh?”

“Yes, you did. We could be looking at assault charges, do you understand that?”

“I guess I won't go to Olympia this weekend then.”

“Don’t be such a martyr,” Triton scoffed, “of course you are going. You're still family and your guests are still invited.”

“You really think dad’s going to want anything to do with me after this?”

Would it be a bad thing if Poseidon did lose interest? Percy had never known his dad and he had never really felt like he was missing something from his life by not having a father at home. He had his mom and that was more than enough for him. But the discovery of his father and all of the time he had spent with Triton had made him curious. Was Poseidon as serious as Triton? Did Percy look like him? Google images had provided a wealth of professional and tabloid photos but Percy wanted more than that. Did they speak the same? Walk the same? Did he like cherry Coke too?

“Percy.” Percy looked up from his hands. Triton only called him ‘Percy’ when he was being nice to him. “Father has gone to a lot of trouble for you, do you understand that? Admitting to you could have destroyed his public image, not to mention the legal implications of legitimizing you. It isn’t an easy situation.”

The spite that was always simmering just under the surface of Percy’s mind, broke free. “Then maybe he shouldn’t have cheated on his wife,” he snapped. “No one made him go have a kid, that’s all on him.”

“You think I’m defending him?” Triton demanded. “My mother is a victim in this too, in case you’ve forgotten, but I won’t disown my own father for something that isn’t mine to forgive. Do you think the press haven’t been tearing her apart for letting this happen – as if any of it was her fault? My point is that of course you are still family and still welcome in Olympia. No one thinks that this is your fault. Father has to clear his own name but you still have a right to know your family and he still wants to be a part of that.”

Percy didn’t quite know what to say to that. Thankfully, Triton didn’t expect him to come up with a response.

“Now, if you'll excuse me, I’m meeting with the press to do some damage control.”

***

That night, Triton decided that Percy was ready for a trial run. They were going for dinner at the Four Seasons.

A stern-looking maître d’ with a neatly trimmed goatee met them at the door.

“Your Royal Highnesses,” he said with a polite nod. “Right this way, if you please.”

Percy gaped as they were led through the dining room. The dining room floor was a rich hardwood. Pale green rugs were spread under a few groupings of tables. The chairs were upholstered in jade green and constructed of thin gold minimalist metal frames. The tables were made of the same frames with dark wood surfaces. Decorative trees stretched up to the ceiling, their leaves lit with dark green bulbs.

Triton raised an eyebrow at him, but he looked more amused than irritated. “Wait until you see the palace.”

Percy realized he was gaping, and he shut his mouth with an audible _click_.

The patrons cast a few furtive glances at them as they were lead through the dining room.

Percy wondered what kind of extra security had been implemented for their visit. Luke and Triton’s nameless detail weren’t far away, lurking as discreetly as they could by one of the walls, and he knew there was some extra security in the building too. But had the patrons been vetted or something crazy? Maybe there was some kind of questionnaire they had to answer when they made the reservation. _How likely are you to murder the princes of an obscure European country? A) not likely at all. B) somewhat likely. C) very likely. Or D) those are my evening plans for tonight at the Four Seasons! How did you know?_

Rachel and her dad were already seated at the table when Percy and Triton arrived. They shouldn’t have been waiting there long because Triton had already impressed upon Percy that being “fashionably late” was actually a myth, and arrive any later than fifteen minutes after the scheduled arrival time was a major faux-pas.

Mr Dare eyed Percy warily as he and Triton joined the Dares. He had never been Percy’s biggest fan; he thought Percy was trouble and a bad influence on Rachel (as if Rachel wasn’t the one who got them their first fake IDs).

Percy and Rachel sat side by side which was helpful because the almost entire menu was French and that wasn’t exactly a recipe for success with Percy’s dyslexia. She pointed out a few things that weren’t some form of dead baby animal for him.

After they had been served, Percy was careful to watch Triton and copy the table manners they had been practicing all week. He thought he was actually doing pretty well for his first time out in public since the whole world found out about his new royal status.

Percy and Rachel had tried to talk about normal things like school and Grover’s podcast on which Rachel was a regular guest but they kept being steamrolled by Triton and Mr Dare. They made small talk about all the boring stuff Triton had been coaching him on like real estate and where the best places to go sailing where this time of year (the answer was apparently Olympia, or possibly Croatia).

Percy let his gaze wander around the room, scanning for any sign of another patron below the age of fifty.

“Perseus, are you listening?”

Percy forced his gaze back to his half-brother. “Uh… sure.”

Mr Dare and Triton exchanged a look.

“I was saying,” said Triton, “that you should join us hunting sometime.”

Percy looked at Rachel in his best impressions of Jim from _The Office_ before answering. “I’m pretty sure that Grover would hunt _me_ if I ever did that.”

Rachel stabbed a forkful of her salad. “Trophy hunting contributes to the prevalence of poaching and the overhunting of endangered species.”

Mr Dare grumbled, “Now, Rachel–”

“What, Dad?”

Percy settled himself back in his seat a little. Rachel had a way of speaking that was more like punching people with words. It was kind of fun to watch when it wasn’t directed at him.

She looked across at her father with innocent curiosity. “You think we should encourage and even participate in a hobby that destabilizes entire populations of animals and their habitats?”

“Tourism hunting helps to fund conservation efforts,” Triton put in.

“Maybe we shouldn’t keep whole species alive just because we want to kill them for fun,” said Percy because it was something Grover would want him to say. “There’s probably better reasons.”

Triton looked like he wanted to respond but before he could, someone else cut in.

“Hey, Percy.”

Percy turned.

And did a double-take.

It was Matt Sloan. There was an older couple at the table behind him that must have been his parents. Mrs Sloan had the same mean eyes as her son. What were the chances that Sloan just happened to be out for dinner in the same place at the same time as Percy? Probably slim to none.

“Sloan, hey. How’s your face?”

Rachel coughed to cover up a laugh.

Triton gave Percy a warning look.

“I’m fine,” Sloan shifted his weight back and forth. “It sucks you got detention for that.”

“Yeah,” said Percy, “it does.”

“Perseus,” said Triton, “aren’t you going to introduce us?”

He hadn’t planned on it since he wasn’t exactly going to invite Sloan to join them. He had his parents to sit with anyway. Triton probably just wanted him to practice his new princely manners.

“Right. Sloan, this is my brother, Prince Triton, you know Rachel, and this is Rachel’s father Mr Dare. This is Matt Sloan.”

Okay, so he wasn’t great at it yet. Not like Sloan deserved politeness anyway.

Triton rose out of his seat and offered his hand to shake. “How do you do?”

Matt shook his hand. Percy noted with a petty satisfaction he had to squish deep _deep_ down inside him that Sloan’s handshake was nowhere near the firm, confident one that he himself had finally perfected.

“Anyway, Percy,” said Sloan. “I just wanted to see if you were coming by the skatepark any time soon.”

 _Yeah, right._ “I don’t think so.”

It wasn’t a lie. Apparently, the skatepark near their school was a security nightmare and Triton would kill Luke if Percy broke an ankle or something before the ball.

“Oh. Well. Okay, I just thought Grover might want to film or something.”

So that’s his game. Grover did like to film Percy skating but mostly because it was a fun way to use the GoPro he’d gotten for Christmas. Percy doubted that Matt Sloan had developed a sudden love for amateur videography. He wanted himself on tape with Percy – which was probably why he’d approached their table at all – hoping some pap would be stalking them and he’d get his picture taken.

“You could try actually asking Grover,” said Rachel. “Unless you only have civil conversations with your _victims_ after you find out their family has more money than you’ll see in your lifetime.”

“Rachel!” Mr Dare’s face was going purple.

Sloan was starting to look angry too. His black eyes were narrowed like he was taking perfect aim with a dodgeball.

“I should go,” he said.

“Yeah,” said Percy. “Probably.”

Triton was so going to murder them but Sloan left so it was totally worth it.

“Where does he get off,” Rachel huffed as their dessert was served, “trying to be your friend after all this comes out?”

Percy shrugged and stabbed his piece of chocolate cake with a warm spoon. “Sloan’s a jerk. What a shocker.”

Triton prodded Percy’s foot with his own under the table. Percy tried to step on him but Triton dodged him deftly and continued his conversation with Mr Dare without missing a beat.

He scowled and stabbed his cake again.

“You okay?” Rachel asked. “Want to get some air?”

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

Percy was already pushing his chair out from the table when he saw Triton’s face. It was a pretty clear _don’t–you–dare–go–anywhere–I–will–tie–you–down–myself_ kind of look. It only made Percy want to get out more. He hated being told what to do and Triton’s favourite hobby was ordering him around.

“We’re just going for a walk,” Percy said. “Won’t even leave the building. Pinky swear.”

They slipped out of the dining room to a balcony area with lots of potted plants and strings of Edison bulbs. There wasn’t exactly a ton of space so Percy was glad that Luke apparently didn’t consider this imminent danger and stayed by the door.

“Your brother’s… a lot,” Rachel said once they were alone.

“Half-brother,” Percy corrected. “I guess he means well but he’s such a tool sometimes.” Percy leaned on the balcony on his elbows and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Ugh I wish Grover was here.”

Rachel snorted. “I would pay to see Grover tear Triton a new one. Funds conservation efforts my eye.”

Percy smiled despite himself. “Grover’s a badass.”

“Yeah,” said Rachel, “but I don’t think he knows that.”

She settled in beside him at the edge the balcony. It felt natural to have her by his side.

Percy and Grover hadn’t met Rachel until freshman year but they’d fallen into being friends easily. None of them really meshed with the rest of Goode High’s population even though Rachel probably could if she wanted too. Percy and Grover couldn’t relate to the other kids’ lifestyles and Rachel had never seemed to particularly want to, so instead they watched movies at their apartments together, or had Rachel film them skateboarding. Percy and Grover would pose for Rachel to practice her figure sketches and help carry her displays to art shows.

Percy’s mom always said they were three peas in a pod. He hoped that wouldn’t change now that so much else around him had been thrown off-kilter. He still had his mom, that would never ever change he knew, but she had had to take time off work while the buzz died down. If the press found out who Percy’s friends were, would they follow them too? Could he really ask his friends to be in the spotlight?

“Hey.” Rachel elbowed him. “Stop thinking so much. It’s weird.”

Percy elbowed her back. “Shut up, Dare.”

“I mean it.” She fixed Percy with serious green eyes. Her frizzy red hair was haloed around her face in the glow of the streetlights. “You’ve got to stop overthinking this.”

“It’s just… it’s crazy that this is my life now.”

“I get that. Well… okay, I don’t really but I’m trying to. I get that it must be a shock, but your whole life doesn’t have to change. You’ve still got your mom, you’ve got me and Grover. Have we ever not been enough for you?”

She was right. Except for the whole Gabe debacle, Percy had been pretty happy. School wasn’t paradise but it wasn’t for most kids. He had his friends and a mom who loved him. Those were things lots of other kids didn’t have. Triton’s appearance didn’t have to uproot his whole life, and it wasn’t the solution to every problem in his life. His mom, Grover, and Rachel would always be his family but he could make room for some other people if he wanted to. Letting other people in didn’t have to mean turning his back on his normal life. There was no normal life vs. prince life, it was just Percy’s life now. Maybe it was time for him to own it a little.

“You’re thinking again. I can tell.”

Percy quirked an eyebrow at her and Rachel poked him between the eyebrows.

“You get a little wrinkle right there. Looks painful.”

Percy elbowed her again and Rachel laughed. “Ready to go back in and face the music?”

Percy offered her an arm with mock gallantry. “Let’s do this.”


	8. Monday

It was official: Percy hated flying. He had never been on a plane before and it only took one flight to figure it out.

The private jet’s large cabin was luxurious with glossy wood-panelled walls and cream leather seats but none of it helped his confidence. It was louder than he had expected and the vibration of the entire airplane made him feel sick. They had barely been in the air for two hours.

Just after take-off Rachel, Grover, and Percy had congregated in a group of comfy seats in the middle of the plane that seemed more like expensive recliners than typical airplane seating.

“So do we have to call you ‘Your Highness’ now?” Grover asked around a mouthful of granola bar.

Percy choked on his own breath. “No! It’s only if you’re actually Olympian, but even then I wish they wouldn’t. It’s so awkward.”

Triton had explained exactly who was expected to address them by their titles. Everyone should call them ‘Prince’ as often as anyone else would call someone like their pediatrician ‘doctor’ but the HRH was only for Olympians or foreigners when they were on Olympian soil.

“What about the other royals?”

“You mean Triton?” Percy considered. “I don’t know. Maybe. I think he’s actually more chill about it than he pretends to be.”

Grover swallowed his mouthful. “No,” he said, “your cousins.”

“Cousins. Right.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Percy.” She fished around in her pockets and withdrew her iPhone in its recycled-plastic-only case that she had hand-painted herself. “Did you even google them?”

“Uh… no. Was I supposed to?”

“Give us the rundown then, Rach,” said Grover, popping the last of his granola bar into his mouth.

“Look.”

Rachel slid out of her seat to perch on the arm of Grover’s chair. Her phone was showing an Instagram page belonging to _@jgrace_. She clicked on the most recent post. It was of a scenic view by a pool. The sky and water were such a pure blue they seemed to be made of the same substance and were only separated by the clean, white tiles. The picture featured four people with their arms around each other’s shoulders in the hip-high water: a blond guy with a square jaw and close-cropped hair, a brown-skinned girl with dark brown hair in two braids, and two younger kids with olive complexion and striking dark eyes that must be siblings. The caption read: _Reunited with the best. #olympuslife @pipesmclean @angelbia @thatkidnico Pic Credit: @badboysupreme._

Rachel pointed at the blond teenager. “That’s Jason Grace. His dad is your uncle Zeus. I think he’s a year younger than us or something. That,” she pointed at the girl with the braids, “is Piper McLean. Rumour is that Jason’s her boyfriend.”

“No way,” said Grover. He took the phone from Rachel’s hand and zoomed in on the girl’s face in the picture. “As in Tristan McLean’s kid?”

Rachel snatched the phone back. “Yes way. Don’t drool. It’s creepy and objectifying.”

“I’m not drooling!” Grover insisted. “And even if I am, it’s over memories of that final battle scene in _King of Sparta,_ not Piper McLean. That movie was epic.”

“Who are the kids?” Percy asked.

“Bianca and Nico di Angelo. Their dad is your other uncle, Hades. They would have been next in line to the throne if their dad hadn’t abdicated.”

Over the first hour or so of the flight, they scrolled through a truly creepy amount of Instagram posts. Percy and Grover had moved on to their favourite band’s new album but Rachel was still digging and would occasionally read a caption or headline aloud and draw them back into a conversation.

“Hey, guys, look at this.”

Percy and Grover crowded back in to look. Rachel’s phone displayed a selection of articles from one of the magazines that had been following Percy in New York.

There was more than one story featuring Percy punching the paparazzi outside the school including one headlined: _ROYAL PRINCE OR DANGEROUS THUG?,_ but the kicker was a new one featuring Friday’s night out at dinner. Someone had snapped a picture of Percy and Rachel on the balcony at the restaurant. That one was headlined: _A ROYAL ROMANCE?_ and was full of speculation about Rachel and Percy’s supposed relationship.

 _New York’s very own Prince Perseus Jackson (of Olympia) has made his first appearance on the dating scene. Rachel Elizabeth Dare (the daughter of billionaire Warren Dare of_ Dare Enterprises _) accompanied His Royal Highness to a private dinner at the Four Seasons on Friday evening. Undisclosed sources say that the pair have been close at Goode High School which they have both attended for the past year and a half._

_A fellow restaurant patron who observed the young couple asserted, “They certainly seemed cozy.” While another stated, “They make a very attractive couple.”_

_When asked for a statement, an Olympian palace spokesman has said, “We do not comment on the Prince’s personal life.”_

Percy scrubbed a hand over his face and groaned. “Ugh, I’m sorry, Rachel.”

He dropped his hand in time to see her shrug and click her phone locked.

“It happens.”

“If you guys are gonna be in the news now,” said Grover, “can you at least plug my podcast?”

“We’ll make it happen,” Percy promised.

That magazine was going to have a field day if they found out Rachel was also invited to the Independence Day Ball in Olympia. Rachel’s family didn’t exactly fly under the radar so the press had found plenty of dirt to dig up on them. They listed her father’s various business dealings and Rachel’s reputation for supporting the arts and environmental protection initiatives. It was a little disappointing that they had not mentioned her appearances on Grover’s podcast.

So far, it looked like the press was leaving Grover alone. That might have been because nobody seemed to actually know who Grover _was._ He was about as unpopular as Percy had been pre-prince reveal and his family weren’t exactly regular faces in the society section.

As they neared the end of the flight, the group split into their own spaces. Grover was playing video games on his handheld, and Rachel had curled up in a seat at the back of the plane with her noise-cancelling headphones for a nap. Luke was on board as well and had chosen a seat at the very front of the plane near the cockpit. Triton’s still nameless bodyguard sat with him, nose buried in a paperback. Triton himself was now sitting across from Percy with a table attached to the wall between them.

The flight had only gotten less comfortable for Percy. His tolerance for being confined, at an altitude at which no human should ever be, was waning. He tried closing his eyes and thinking about soothing waves like the school guidance councillor suggested for nerves, but it just made the nausea worse.

When he opened his eyes again, Triton was eyeing him over the iPad in his lap.

“You don’t enjoy flying then?”

Percy made a conscious effort to dislodge his fingers out from the arms of his plush leather seat. His nails had left little crescent moon shaped indents in the material. “I’ve never done it before,” he said. “So far not a fan.”

Triton looked back down at his tablet and swiped a few times. “You’ll get used to it.”

 _Not likely,_ thought Percy.

“Especially when you’re flying back and forth between Olympia and New York.”

 _Whoa, what?_ “Is that going to happen a lot?”

Triton’s gaze flicked back up to him. “Unless you plan on teleporting.”

“Was that a joke?”

Triton rolled his eyes in a very un-princely manner. “Yes, obviously it was a joke. Ideally, you’ll be spending the school year in New York and summers in Olympia so you will be flying regularly. Not to mention state visits and the like.”

“Hey, I still haven’t decided any of that.”

Triton ignored him and tapped a few times on his iPad screen. “I’ve airdropped you your itinerary for the week.”

Percy’s phone pinged. He whipped out his phone and scrolled through the PDF Triton had sent him.

_Monday, May 2nd  
_ _7:45 am: Arrive in Olympia  
_ _9:00 am: Private breakfast at the palace  
_ _10:00 am: Tour of the palace  
_ _Rest of day free to complete week’s schoolwork.  
_ _7:00pm: Change for dinner  
_ _8:00 pm: Dinner with the Royal family_

_Tuesday, May 3rd  
_ _8:00 am: Breakfast with Olympian public officials  
_ _10:00 am: Tour of an Olympian public school  
_ _12:00pm: Meet with Olympian schoolchildren  
_ _1:30 pm: Lunch with members of Olympian Teachers Association  
_ _3:30 pm: Tour of Port of Olympia and Olympian naval cruiser  
_ _5:00 pm: Tour of Olympian General Hospital  
_ _6:00 pm: Visit with hospital patients  
_ _7:00pm: Change for dinner  
_ _8:00 pm: Dinner with the royal family and the Prime Minister of Olympia_

_Wednesday, May 4th  
_ _8:00 am: Breakfast with members of Olympian Historians Association  
_ _10:00 am: Tour of the Olympian National Art Museum  
_ _12:00pm: Lunch with the Olympian Board of Tourism  
_ _2:00 pm: Visit Olympian War Veterans Memorial, place wreath on the grave of Unknown Soldier  
_ _3:00 pm: Television interview with Good Morning Olympia  
_ _7:00 pm: Change for dinner  
_ _8:00 pm: Dinner with the royal family and Olympian military advisors_

_Thursday, May 5th  
_ _8:00 am: Breakfast with the Olympian National Equestrian Team(s)  
_ _9:00 am: Tour of the royal stables  
_ _10:00 am: Attend polo match. Lunch included.  
_ _1:30 pm: Change for Parliament meeting  
_ _2:30 pm: Sit in on a meeting of Olympian Parliament  
_ _5:00 pm: Pose for a royal portrait  
_ _7:00 pm: Change for dinner  
_ _8:00 pm: Formal dinner with members of the Olympian Trade Association_

_Friday, May 6th  
_ _8:00 am: Breakfast with the director of the Royal Olympian Symphony  
_ _9:30 am: Dedicate new modern wing of Royal Olympian Museum of Art  
_ _11:30 am: Lessons with Prince Triton  
_ _1:00 pm: Lunch with the Olympian Society of Medicine  
_ _2:30 pm: Attend King’s address to local media on the importance of Olympia as a global player in the international economy  
_ _3:30 pm: Riding with members of Olympian Polo Team  
_ _6:00pm: Private dinner  
_ _8:00 pm-12 am: Royal Olympian Symphony_

_Saturday, May 7th  
_ _8:00 am: Breakfast with the ambassador to Spain  
_ _9:30 am: Family outing on the royal yacht  
_ _12:00pm: Change for lunch  
_ _1:00 pm: Lunch with members of the Royal Olympian Shakespeare Society  
_ _2:00 pm: Sit for continued work on royal portrait  
_ _5:00 pm: Prince lesson with Triton  
_ _6:00 pm: Change for dinner  
_ _7:00 pm: State dinner with the Prime Minister of Greece_

_Sunday, May 8th. Independence Day   
_ _8:00 am: Private family breakfast  
_ _9:00 am: Mass in Royal Olympian Chapel  
_ _11:00 am: Independence Day Parade  
_ _1:00 pm: Lunch with Members of Olympian Parliament  
_ _2:30 pm: Attend a street fair  
_ _6:00 pm: Change for Independence Day Ball  
_ _7:00 pm: Independence Day Ball_

Percy stared Triton down. “I thought this was going to be a vacation!”

“For your friends,” said Triton, “it is. It was going to be a holiday for you as well until your identity was leaked to the press early. Now, you can make yourself useful. Don’t worry too much about the timing, Luke and Mellie will make sure you are where you’re supposed to be.”

“I wasn’t worried. You know I’m supposed to be doing school this week too, right?”

“You have the rest of the flight to start,” said Triton, “as well as tomorrow afternoon, evenings for the rest of the week, and the flight back to New York.”

Percy slumped back in his seat and shoved his phone into his front pocket. “Ugh, whatever. Fine. Can you just tell me about the uncles again?”

Triton finally looked up from his iPad. “Since when are you interested in anything I’ve tried to teach you?”

Percy shrugged. “We were stalking Instagrams earlier. Now I’m curious.”

“It is a bit of a long story but I suppose you should understand it before we arrive.

“Our father is the middle brother. The oldest, Hades, was always unpopular. He was never interested in the publicity and when he _was_ seen he wasn’t all that pleasant. He ended up abdicating to work in the government instead; currently, he is Minister of Finance. His first wife, Maria di Angelo was Olympia’s Italian ambassador for years but there was a… a terrible accident and she passed away. Hades remarried afterwards. Their family’s official residence is in the city but his children often stay in the palace with us. You will meet them all this week.

“The youngest brother is Zeus. He’s a bit of a playboy, in all honesty, not interested in any responsibilities that don’t directly involve the spotlight. He met his first wife, Beryl Grace in California–”

“Hang on.” Percy held up a hand and tried to contain his disbelief. “Beryl Grace the actress?”

Triton sighed. “Yes, the actress. I hope you aren’t about to go all star-struck on me.”

“I think I’ve seen like one of her movies. Mom says she’s been arrested a ton.”

“Officially, I make no comment. Privately, if she wasn’t so wealthy there is no chance she would still have a driving licence. You shouldn’t mention her around the rest of the family.”

“Why not?”

“Moving on. After they had their second child, Jason, Zeus lost interest in her and relocated back to Olympia after a particularly messy divorce.” Percy made a mental note to do some more digging about Beryl. “He allowed my mother to help arrange a more suitable spouse. Now he technically lives in Olympia with his second wife, Hera, but he’s usually travelling. You’ll meet everyone soon enough.”

“Sounds like a soap opera.”

“It is not that far off,” Triton admitted. “I suppose one cannot choose one’s family.”

“You’re telling me.”

They were wheels down on the tarmac at precisely 7:45 am local time, as promised. There had been some intense turbulence coming in to land in Olympia. The plane felt like it had skidded on landing, jarring Percy around in his seat. That settled it: he was never flying again. He would have to learn teleportation or goddamn swim back to America, but no more planes.

“I’m never doing that again,” Percy declared as he and Grover disembarked on the steps at the front of the jet.

“Guess you’re never going home then. I’ll break the news to Mrs O’Leary.”

Percy elbowed him in the ribs and Grover retaliated by hitting Percy in the ankle with one of his crutches.

“You two are such children,” Rachel said primly, playfully knocking the back of both of their heads as she passed them.

Olympia’s major airport was about the size of the private one they had taken off from in New York. In a word: tiny. There were only about ten gates that Percy could see. Their little jet didn’t even approach the building. It parked (was that even the word for planes?) on the tarmac where they were greeted by several sleek black SUVs and one limo.

The place must have been locked down tight in preparation for their arrival. Even as they pulled out of the airport and onto the road there were no paparazzi or crowds of gawking at them like a zoo exhibition. Their entire car ride from the airport, down the highway, even through the hilly and narrow streets of the city, was uneventful and quiet.

Percy was exhausted from a fitful night on the plane. He wished Triton’s schedule had left some time for a nap.

“Oh shit!”

Percy pried open one bleary eye. Grover had his nose pressed against the window.

“Is that it?”

Rachel tugged him back into his seat. “Probably, you weirdo. Chill out.”

Percy sat up and looked out the window for himself. The royal palace was less like a fairytale castle and more like a huge mansion. Constructed out of some kind of cream coloured stone with white columns and detailed trim under the eaves. The windows were all tall and those on the first floor were accompanied by neatly maintained flower boxes. In between each of the windows were carvings of gods and goddesses. A grand stone staircase led from the driveway to a set of ridiculously big double doors on the second floor watched by what Percy guessed were two honest to God footmen. The gravel circular driveway looped around a huge fountain and vibrant flower beds.

Percy’s eyes snapped to Triton. “You live _here?_ ”

The corner of Triton’s mouth quirked up in a half-smile. “First thing’s first,” he said. “Breakfast.”

Rachel and Grover were not invited to “private breakfast at the palace” so they had retreated to their guest rooms to settle in and eat. Percy’s bags were left in the car for what he could only assume were honest to god _servants_ to unload and deliver to his room. He was expected to follow Triton through the palace to meet his dad for the first time. He would have preferred at least a little break after the plane ride. He wasn’t sure if breakfast with his dad and, oh god, _stepmother_ would be more or less nauseating.

“A proper tour will have to wait until after breakfast,” Triton said as he lead Percy through the wide corridors. “I am useless on an empty stomach.”

“Only then?”

Triton glared sideways at Percy.

The halls of the Olympian royal palace were carpeted by long purple rugs embroidered with filigrees of gold. Even Percy did not consider himself to be particularly well-versed in the finer points of interior design thought it was kind of tacky. The off-white plaster walls were ornamented with twisting carvings of flowers and ocean waves.

Up and down flights of stairs they went until Percy was certain Triton was screwing him around.Percy was just about to demand that Triton explain where the hell they were going when they stopped walking.

They had stopped just short of a pair of eight-pane glass double doors. White curtains were held open with gold string hung on either side of the doorway. The doors led to some kind of large balcony but from their vantage point, Percy couldn’t quite see what was outside.

“What are we doing?”

“They’re out there,” said Triton, jerking his head at the door a little.

Percy’s stomach did a backflip. How did one even go about meeting their biological father after fifteen years of not having one?

“I’m not bowing,” he blurted.

“You don’t have to. We’re in private. Nobody cares.”

Oh. That had been intended to be more of a statement than it apparently would be.

“She isn’t going to like me.”

“You don’t know that.”

Percy ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the no doubt incredibly expensive wallpaper. There was no going back now. His dad was on the other side of those doors and it was a long flight back to his mom.

He took a deep breath.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

Triton opened the doors, and they stepped through them together.

King Poseidon Oceanus Delphin Primordia was a tall, broad man. Like Triton, he was lighter-skinned than Percy but he was tan like he spent a lot of time on the beach. His black hair was cut short and neat and there were crinkled laugh lines at the corners of his green eyes.

Queen Amphitrite had brown eyes and dark hair that was pulled back away from her face and twisted into a little bun at the base of her neck. A string of pearls lay against the base of her throat.

She gazed coolly at Percy as he and Triton stepped out onto the veranda. The place had pretty views of a large garden. The breakfast table was set with delicate place settings which contrasted with the boxes of cereal and piles of toast.

Poseidon stood from his chair, his mouth falling slightly open. “Perseus.”

Percy didn’t really know what to say so he settled for, “Um.”

Triton rolled his eyes and bent to kiss Amphitrite on the cheek. “Mamá,” he greeted as he settled himself into a chair beside her.

“Mm good morning, Triton,” she returned. Her accent was more pronounced than Triton who sounded practically American. “How was your flight?”

Percy and Poseidon stared at each other. This was his father. They looked similar, they had a similar build, but Percy felt no instantaneous, magical connection. They were strangers. This man had cheated on his own wife and kept Percy at a distance until it suited his convenience.

“He isn’t the most eloquent teenager I’ve ever met,” Triton commented to Amphitrite.

“Like father like son.”

Poseidon cleared his throat. “Sit down, Perseus, please.”

Numbly, Percy did so.

He considered the options on the table. Percy wasn’t exactly picky but nothing on offer looked particularly chocolatey, syrupy, or candy-y; which was generally what he went for breakfast since his mom didn’t let him drink coffee and sugar made a good caffeine substitute.

One box of cereal advertised what looked like cheerios except the mascot was a red bear instead of a honeybee. Percy reached for it but just as he grabbed hold of the box, Triton grabbed the other side. They glared at each other.

“Let go,” Triton ordered.

“I had it first.”

“You did not.”

“Did so.”

“Boys,” Amphitrite snapped. “Triton, give the box to Perseus.”

Triton released his hold on the box with a huff. Percy resisted the urge to blow a big, wet raspberry at him – which he thought demonstrated a considerable amount of princely restraint.

“It is good to see that you two are getting along so well.” Poseidon’s voice was deep and as heavily accented as his wife’s.

“Fraternal bliss,” Triton muttered, buttering a piece of toast.

Percy couldn’t feel his hands as he poured himself a bowl of cereal. His whole body was a jumble of nerves. Was he seriously having _breakfast_ with the King, Queen, and Crown Prince of Olympia?

“So, Perseus–”

“Percy.”

Poseidon blinked at his younger son.

Percy shifted a little in his seat but met Poseidon’s gaze steadily. “I prefer Percy.”

“Percy, then. How was your flight?”

Breakfast was full of awkward small talk. There was no instant connection or hobbies in common between Percy and Poseidon. Poseidon was an avid equestrian, he and his wife and eldest son made a point of sailing regularly. Percy had never set foot on a sailboat or ridden a horse in his life. He doubted any of them had skateboarded before or spent much time playing video games.

As they all finished their meals, Poseidon cleared his throat. “Have you had a tour of the palace?”

Percy’s eyes flicked to Triton. “Not yet.”

Triton checked his watch. “Jason volunteered to show you around. He should be here already.”

“Jason as in Jason Grace?”

“Yes,” said Poseidon, “my younger brother’s son– ah, there he is.”

The doors to the balcony opened again. In the doorway was the same blond teenager Percy recognized from the Instagram post. He looked relaxed and confident in jeans and a fitted polo shirt.

“Morning.”

“Good morning, Jason,” said Amphitrite.

“Jason,” said Poseidon, “this is your cousin Percy. Percy, Jason.”

Jason smiled at him with blindingly perfect white teeth. “Hey, ready for your tour?”

He’s… American?

Percy pushed back his chair and stood. “Sure.”

“So,” said Jason, as Percy followed him back inside, “been a weird couple of weeks, huh?”

“You’re telling me. Hey, you’ve got a pretty solid American accent. Could teach Triton a thing or two.”

Jason laughed. “That’s because I live in LA. I grew up there.”

“Wait what?”

“My dad lives here with his side of the family but I live with my mom in the US.”

“Don’t you have to deal with crazy reporters over there, though? It seems so quiet over here.”

“Well, people around here are pretty used to seeing us. It’ll get better back home, they’ll lose interest in you soon. You’re just bright and shiny and new.” Percy frowned at him and Jason elaborated. “The paps get paid by views of their ads so they write what will get the most clicks. People are interested in you right now so they’re looking you up and that means more clicks.”

“What about the other cousins? Bianca? Nico?”

“They live here,” said Jason as they rounded a corner. “there’s an international school in town that they go to. They can even walk there from the palace when they stay here or from their place on the other side of town. People mostly leave them alone since they’re so young.”

They had walked to the front of the house. The entrance hall was open to the second floor above.

A girl’s voice echoed from the next floor up. “Nico!” it shrieked. “This is not funny!”

Jason raised his eyebrows at Percy in amusement. “Ready to meet the tiny terror?”

A short dark-haired kid came sprinting around the corner. He must have been ten at the oldest with long dark hair that made him look like a wannabe scene guy on _MySpace_.

“Hi Jason,” he panted as he ran past.

“Hey Nico.”

Then the kid was gone, totally disappeared down one of the hallways. Then came Bianca, who Percy recognized from _Instagram_ , wrapped in a fluffy purple bathrobe. She stood at the top of the stairs, hair wrapped in a towel on top of her head.

“That brat put glue in my conditioner!”

Percy coughed to cover up a laugh.

“You can probably wash it out, though, right?”

Bianca folded her arms. “He better hope so! Or I swear to God I am going to kill him!”

Jason’s tour of the first floor included the state dining room, a drawing room for every colour of the rainbow, music room, ballroom, throne room, the entrance to the service areas, and finally the private area which included offices, receiving chambers, and sitting rooms.

The land has been at least a part of the Olympia family holdings since Alexander the Great,” Jason explained. “but this palace wasn’t built until 300 years ago and wasn’t a centre of government until Greece and Olympia split. You and your guests are welcome in any of the public rooms but I don’t recommend it because the tour groups are a little annoying. Most of the private wing is open to you as well except for other family apartments and offices. The governmental wing is off limits unless we’re invited. That never used to be a rule until Nico started causing trouble.”

Percy nodded along as if he was absorbing all of the information.

“Anything officially informal happens in one of the drawing rooms, the library, somewhere like that. Anything we do that’s _actually_ informal will be in one of the apartments or the terrace. Our group normally hangs out in the game room. It’s kind of out of the way so I’ll just show you that after dinner.”

 _Our group._ Was Percy a part of “our” now?

“The guest rooms and apartments for family are upstairs. Come on, I’ll show you where your room is.”

Jason pointed out where the guest rooms were, indicating which ones he thought Rachel and Grover had been given, before continuing to an even more private part of the palace beyond a set of doors watched by… guards? Footmen? A pair of men in uniforms. Triton had a room there and there was a larger separate apartment occupied by Poseidon and Amphitrite.

Percy’s room looked more like a hotel room. It had high ceilings and sea green wallpaper with leaves and flowers. The bed had a canopy like something out of a Disney movie and the frame was inlaid with little gold filigrees. Everything was some shade of green, blue, or gold. It was more than a little overwhelming. Rachel might have said the furniture was vintage but to Percy, it just looked old. He and his duffel bag – which had been left neatly on a fancy ottoman at the foot of the bed – looked very out of place here.

“Um, wow,” Percy said eloquently.

“This room hasn’t been used in a long time,” said Jason. “Amphitrite will redecorate if you ask. They’ve been doing all the private rooms of the palace as needed for the past ten years or something. They did Triton’s.” He jerked his head toward a door Percy hadn’t noticed. “You two have an adjoined room between you. Kind of a living and dining space. Same as Nico has with Bianca.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be asking Amphitrite for any favours any time soon.”

Jason shrugged. “Fair. I’ll leave you to get settled in. Dinner is at eight tonight. The whole family is coming. Do you remember the way to the dining room?”

Percy nodded. “I’ll find it.”

“Great.”

He turned to leave but paused at the door and looked over his shoulder at Percy. “Jeans and a T-shirt is fine. Only the real grown-ups will get dressed up for this.”

“Thanks, man.”

Percy spent the afternoon with Rachel and Grover. They “studied” in Percy’s room which really meant Rachel and Percy speculated about the possibilities of secret passages while Grover gave them the SparkNotes version of a play they were supposed to have read for Mr Blofis’ class. When they got bored of that they did a very small amount of actual homework and took turns playing on Grover’s handheld.

At lunchtime, Rachel used the little intercom system beside Percy’s bed to ask the kitchen to bring up some food. It really was like being in a hotel. Except Percy could freaking live there if he wanted to.

Rachel and Grover were not invited to “private family dinner”. Instead, Rachel asked the intercom if someone could get them a pizza. She picked out a shirt for Percy to wear and Grover quizzed him on the finer points of the environmental protection program he wanted to get Poseidon or Triton’s thoughts on.

By the time Rachel and Grover decided he was ready, Percy was cutting it very close. Typical. He had gotten turned around on his way down from his room and was already a few minutes late. Everyone else was already seated when he arrived. When he entered, the hum of conversation paused.

The meal was in Poseidon and Amphitrite’s dining room in their apartment on the upper floor. According to Jason, that meant it was informal. It still apparently involved an eleven person meal with multiple courses and footmen in attendance to serve.

The occupants seemed to have arranged themselves with the adults at one end of the table and teenagers at the other.

Poseidon sat at the head of the table, Amphitrite at his left, Triton on Poseidon’s other side, and a scattering of less familiar faces throughout. Two men, who must be Poseidon’s brothers, were also there, as were two women Percy didn’t know.

Toward the foot of the table was Jason with Nico beside him and Bianca across from them. They had left an empty chair at the end of the table beside Bianca for Percy.

Thankfully, Jason had not been messing with him and Percy did not look out of place in his jeans and a long-sleeved navy T-shirt. Percy took the seat beside Bianca. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail and hidden by a pale green bandana she wore as a headband. As he took his seat, one of the footmen whisked a plate off of the warming plate at the back of the room and placed it at Percy’s seat.

One of Poseidon’s brothers, the one with the carefully groomed jet black beard, cleared his throat and took a sip from his water glass. “Well, that is quite the first impression,” he said. “Do you plan on making lateness a habit?”

Jason shot the man a look. “Dad, please.”

Jason’s father, then, Percy’s uncle Zeus.

“Sorry,” said Percy, “I got lost.”

“Not a problem,” Poseidon assured him. “You know Amphitrite, Triton, and Jason already of course. This is my younger brother Zeus,” Zeus raised his glass in a mocking greeting, “and his wife Hera. Then my elder brother Hades,” he indicated the man with his hair slicked back and oily. “Persephone, Bianca, and Nico, though perhaps you have met them already.”

Percy nodded a greeting at his uncles, to Hera, and then Persephone. He cocked his head a little and considered Persephone. “So you’re Bianca and Nico’s sister?”

Jason spluttered. Nico spat out his drink, spraying it across the table cloth. Bianca clapped a hand over her mouth to cover up a snort.

From the other end of the table, Triton glared daggers at Percy.

Persephone lifted her chin and looked down her nose at Percy. Before she could say anything, Hades cut across her. “Persephone is my wife, boy.”

Percy choked on his own breath. “ _Oh._ ”

“Don’t worry, Perce,” said Nico. “Why would you guess that Dad would marry someone half his age?”

Hades gave his son a stern look. “Nico…”

“I can speak for myself,” said Persephone.

Nico rounded on her. “Then are you gonna explain why you can’t find someone your own age to marry?”

Hades slammed a fist onto the table making all the place setting rattle. Percy jumped but the others seemed relatively unfazed. Was this normal?

“That’s enough! Nico, go to your room.”

Nico looked indignant. “I haven’t eaten anything!”

“Now!”

Nico shoved himself away from the table. His chair scraped against the floor. “Fine! I don’t want to be here anyway.”

Jason half-rose out of his seat. “I’ll make sure he gets there.”

“You sit down,” snapped Hera.

Jason sank back into his chair.

Nico wrenched the door open before one of the footmen could beat him to it. He swung it closed in what likely would have been an impressive slam but it was caught just in time and shut with a gentle _click._

“Well,” said Zeus. He downed the rest of his wine glass in two large gulps. “Welcome to Olympia, Percy Jackson.”


	9. Tuesday

Percy was not looking forward to his first day of princely duties. It was seven in the morning and he had at least managed to wake on time, but he was still tired from the night before. Dinner had been a series of trips, stumbles, and missteps. From his first assumption that Uncle Hades’ wife was actually a daughter, to spilling a good spoonful of dessert down his front, it had been an embarrassing meal from start to finish.

After the meal, Jason and Bianca had invited him to join them and some of Jason’s friends in the game room for a movie, but Percy had begged off claiming he was too tired. He wasn’t normally dishonest, his mom always emphasized the importance of telling the truth, but tired sounded so much more respectable than “thanks but I’m scared I’m going to make an even bigger idiot out of myself so I’m going to hide in my room”.

Rachel and Grover had tried their best to be supportive but even they hadn’t been able to keep a straight face when he confessed his mistake with Persephone. He should have known better. Triton had already told him that Hades had remarried, and there had never been any mention of a third and eldest child. He should have put two and two together.

It didn’t matter how much time Percy spent dwelling on the previous evening’s mistakes and wishing for his own invisibility, he was stuck in Olympia for the next week. Grover had helped him get his phone set up so that he could text his mom, but she had been slightly less than helpful. There would be no early flight back to New York for Percy and there would be no impromptu flight to Olympia for his mother. He would have to figure out this royal thing for himself.

Well, with the help of Triton, Rachel, Grover, and the new cousins who all seemed friendly enough.

He had to get out of bed before he lost the ability to wallow in his own misery. Too much introspective problem solving before breakfast wasn’t good for him.

Apparently, Percy’s cousins had remarkably fewer official engagements to be dragged along to. Jason, Bianca, and Nico were absent from Percy’s “breakfast with Olympian public officials” and did not join the convoy of black SUVs and limos on the late morning visit to a public school.Triton and his parents had thankfully been in attendance at breakfast so he was not truly alone and Triton would in fact be accompanying Percy for most of the day.

By lunchtime, Percy was feeling much better about his chances of surviving his trip to Olympia without dying of mortification. Breakfast passed without much incident as Percy was attempting to practice the old adage of “speak when spoken too” and had kept the majority of his less than eloquent comments to himself.

The tour of the public school was easy enough as Percy, whatever else Triton or anyone else might think of him, knew how school worked. Public school kids in Olympia wanted the exact same thing as any student at Goode High: an excuse to not study. They seemed downright thrilled to demonstrate the capabilities of the junior concert band (which was not bad for a group of twelve to fourteen-year-olds), the finished projects of the senior art students, and the English speaking capabilities of the entire student body on which the school prided itself on so highly.

“Lunch with members of the Olympian Teachers Association” was slightly less smooth. Everyone seemed interested in Percy’s studies. Where is Percy going to university? What are Percy’s academic ambitions? Will Percy be transferring to a school in Olympia? What degree program is Percy most interested in, and what does he plan to do with it once he's graduated?

No one had seemed particularly impressed when he’d told them that he didn’t really know what he wanted to do with his life. He had wanted to be a pro skateboarder until he realized he was actually pretty crap at skateboarding. When he had confessed under the relentless interrogation of the chairman, that he was starting to become interested in being a firefighter, the room had actually laughed. Triton at least had the tact to quickly change the subject to opinions on standardized testing.

After a morning with only Triton for company, Percy was more than a little surprised when Poseidon joined them for their “tour of Port Olympia and the Olympian naval cruiser”. Following their tour, which Poseidon seemed to enjoy more than anyone else, Poseidon took Percy aside for a walk on the boardwalk on the beach.

Poseidon strode casually along the dock with his hands clasped neatly behind his back. Percy was not at all comfortable with how comfortable it felt to walk by his side. The water was a pristine turquoise bordered on the shore by white sand beaches. Poseidon had spearheaded initiatives to clean up the beaches and keep garbage out of Olympia’s waters. It looked to Percy like the campaigns had been successful.

Not far offshore, a trio of sailboats was cutting its way through the calm waters.

Poseidon halted at the end of the dock and surveyed the boats. Behind Poseidon and Percy, Luke and Poseidon’s bodyguard stopped as well, waiting for their respective charges at the boardwalk on the sand. Over the past few weeks, Percy had gotten used to the constant shadow of his bodyguard.

“Do you sail, Percy?” Poseidon asked the question without taking his eyes off of the azure horizon.

Percy watched the boats as they turned farther away from the shore.

“No, I’ve never tried it.”

“You will have to try your hand sometime this week. I am certain you will be a natural.”

“What makes you think that?”

Poseidon’s gaze was fixed on the horizon, watching the ocean roll into the sky. “You are my son. It’s in your blood. I’ve spent my life on the ocean. I sailed all my childhood, I rowed during school, and I did a short stint in the navy. Triton has quite an affinity for the sea as well.”

“I’m not anything like Triton.”

Poseidon turned to face him. “I don’t think that’s quite true.”

“You barely know me,” Percy pointed out.

“Your mother did keep me informed–”

“That isn’t the same as actually being there.” Percy’s face felt hot from more than just the spring sun. “Emails from mom about my– my grades and my dog or– it isn’t the same.”

Percy turned on his heel and began striding back down the docks.

Poseidon caught him by the arm. “Percy–”

Percy shrugged him off. For a moment, he fantasized about shoving His Royal Majesty King Poseidon off the edge of the dock.

“I’m going to find my friends.”

Poseidon did not pursue him as Percy made a beeline for the shore. At the other end of the dock, Luke silently stepped aside to let him through and then followed at his usual discreet distance.

The driver opened the door for Percy before he could even reach for the handle. For this outing, the general retinue had opted for sleek black SUVs instead of the limo Percy had started to get used to. Percy climbed inside.

In the front, Luke slid into the passenger seat and turned around to face Percy.

“Your highness,” he said, “may I speak plainly?”

Percy looked up from gnawing on his thumbnail. “What? Yeah, Luke, of course.”

“I believe His Majesty thought he was acting in your best interest by remaining at a distance.”

“Lucky him for getting to make the choice.”

Luke’s expression shuttered and he did not press the issue.

Poseidon did not accompany his sons to the Olympian General Hospital. Triton and Percy were greeted by the smiling, lab-coated head of pediatric surgery who was apparently the unfortunate staff member rounded up for the Olympian royal circus act. Percy, Triton, and Dr whoever (Percy really did make an effort to remember her name, dammit) stood side by side outside the building for the photographs of what seemed like every media outlet on the planet.

When Triton had decided when the press had had enough he gestured to the front doors and their new doctor friend led them inside. The hospital was all bright and shiny and new which Percy had been told was the reason for their visit; the entire thing was newly renovated and updated with brand new equipment. The royal visit was an opportunity to showcase all that Olympian healthcare had to offer.

They had left the media circus outside but a select few were permitted to follow them on their tour and take an obviously tasteful amount of “candid” photos. Percy was not any more used to the press than he had been when his identity was first made public. It was just straight-up weird to have total strangers taking his picture all the time. Why did anyone even care what he got up to?

Percy tried to focus on not tripping over his own feet. His head was still full of Poseidon and his platitudes. It was so far from fair that Percy was expected to immediately forgive his dad’s absence and move on like nothing had happened, on top of everything else the Olympias kept throwing at him.

 _You’re a prince now, Percy. Fly across the world, Percy. Change your whole lifestyle, Percy. Put your entire existence on display, Percy. Do it all while people take your picture and post your every single tiniest mistake all over the internet for the whole world to see, Percy._ It was exhausting just to wrap his head around.

The doctor led them around the hospital pointing out the new emergency department with its increased capacity and more efficient triage capabilities. They took a peek into the surgical gallery where thankfully no one was cut open on the table. Percy and Triton pretended not to pose with their doctor friend in seemingly every department of the building. Until finally they reached the pediatrics ward and Triton took Percy aside.

“This is easy,” said Triton without preamble.

“Is it?” said Percy, trying not to sound too bitter.

“The kids are always excited about this kind of thing. Say hello to as many as you can, sit with a couple of them and chat, don’t make that face at the cameras, and we’ll be out in less than thirty minutes.”

The room inside was painted a cheerful yellow and all of the beds were made up with crisp cream coloured sheets. Rainbows, clouds, and various cartoonish woodland creatures were stencilled around the room in tasteful amounts. If it weren’t for the IV bags, hospital issue beds, and other medical equipment, it could have passed as a kindergarten classroom. The room had only six child occupants – each sitting up in their beds. All of the kids were haloed with crayon drawings and get-well cards pinned up above their heads. A few of them decidedly did not look like they would belong in a kindergarten classroom. The eldest of them had to be at least thirteen and the youngest was maybe five or six.

Triton was right that the kids looked excited, though. Percy had been expecting at least one or two sullen faces at their intrusion but everyone seemed pleased to see them.

Triton and Percy took the divide and conquer approach. Each of them took one side of the room and introduced themselves to each of the kids individually. While each kid waited their turn to meet a prince, they kept themselves occupied with colouring pages, iPads, or books. Or at least, they pretended to be occupied. Percy was pretty sure that there was more than one eavesdropper.

The hospital visit surprised Percy by being the easiest function of his day – even more than meeting the students. Yes, the kids asked him about being a prince but once he asked a question or two of his own they positively gushed about tv shows and video games and practically jumped out of their beds in excitement when he could relate to what they talked about. It was almost like being normal again – except for the press and bodyguards and the Crown Prince of Olympia on the other side of the room.

The no-doubt carefully vetted discreet photographers took several photos of Percy and Triton with some of the kids and then retreated to an inconspicuous corner. The next day, the headline _Prince Charming of Olympia!_ was accompanied by a photo of Percy sitting on the edge of a younger boy’s bed, the kid dressed in Star Wars pjs and grinning ear to ear.

When they returned to the palace that night, all Percy could think about was falling right onto his big old-fashioned bed. After stumbling his way through his breakfast with Olympian public officials, a school tour, lunch with members of the Olympian Teachers Association, the tour of Port Olympia with Poseidon and the subsequent awkward conversation on the docks, _and_ the hospital visit, Percy was well and truly cooked. How was he supposed to get through another awkward family dinner, especially when this time it would also involve the Prime Minister of Olympia?

It was Triton who banged on Percy’s door over an hour later. Percy pushed himself up on his elbows, bleary-eyed and dry-mouthed.

“What?” he asked through a yawn.

“You’re going to be late for dinner with the Prime Minister.”

Shit.

Percy sat straight upright. He’d fallen asleep. Of course he had fallen asleep. The day had been an overall success so far, it was about time something went significantly wrong.

“Get moving.”

Percy stumbled out of bed. Stripping out of his rumpled clothes as he went for the closet and the suit his mom had carefully packed for him. As he dressed, he felt very much like a green soldier getting ready for their first battle; the neatly pressed suit his armour and Triton his unfortunate ally.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! This fic is a bit of fun that will be updated whatever whenever as a reprieve for me from some of my more intense projects. Hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> The title and the stanza in the summary come from the song "Daughter" by Sleeping at Last which served as much of the inspiration for this fic.


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